The Werewolf Tamer
by atruwriter
Summary: It wasn't supposed to come to this. So many lost, all hope dashed. But she would change it, she would save them all. TimeTravel, spoilers, longer summary inside. HGRL, side JPLE
1. Prologue

**In-depth summary**: _Three years after a gruesome lost battle, the Wizarding world is left in chaotic limbo. With Voldemort in hiding, trying to rebuild his power, Hermione is trying to restore hope when her own is destroyed. With nobody left, she makes the drastic decision to recreate the past for the future she believes should have come to be. Traveling 27 years to the past, she builds alliances with the werewolf clans, Marauders, and works toward the ultimate goal. **Hermione/Remus**_

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_**The Werewolf Tamer  
**Prologue_

Three years after the loss of the Final Battle, the Wizarding world was a chaotic place. Six years had passed since the finish of Hogwarts, and everyone had to suffer the problems faced in school in the outside world, too. After Dumbledore's death, seventh year had been wrought with pain and suffering, grueling tasks and wavering faith. Along the way however, friendships and love had been built.

Ron Weasley had found comfort in the arms of Luna Lovegood, who helped alleviate the pressure of being part of the Golden Trio, a large player in the coming war, and a boy who had to grow up too fast. Luna's odd personality and wisdom about the world provided Ron with both a lighthearted existence and a better understanding of what was going on around him. While he still had the emotional range of a tea spoon, Luna accepted that about him and worked around it, instead of trying to change him. Likewise, Ron soon found himself enjoying Luna's oddities, rather than seeing them as flaws. It was this connection that grounded Ron and kept him from becoming so far involved with the War that he lost sight of being himself.

Even Harry Potter found love in the days where Hogwarts no longer felt like a safe haven. Susan Bones was there when he needed friendship and companionship most. Finding in Susan somebody who could properly understand him and comfort him, Harry was finally blessed with the one person who seemed to complete him. Outside of his best friends, she became the most important person in his life. Standing behind his decisions, as long as they weren't rash enough to get him killed, Susan was soon recognized as Harry's partner in everything. He kept no secrets from her, but instead found peace in the knowledge that she knew him inside and out. While she became a large target for Voldemort, she was also kept hidden and safe to the standards of only Harry had ever been. There was rarely a time when they were seen separate and Harry finally experienced a part of his life that wasn't dark and gloomy. In the best words of explanation, Ron dubbed Susan as, "Harry's normality," because she was the one thing in his life that kept him "Harry" and not the "Boy-Who-Lived".

When the days of school were set behind them, the Golden Trio became important members of the illustrious Order of the Phoenix, where they planned to defeat Voldemort in any way possible, and trained as Auror's in preparation. It was in that first year of freedom from school, that Hermione became interested in the idea of gaining trust with the werewolves. She went to Remus Lupin, he being the only werewolf she had ever known, and proposed a plan. How much good would it cause if she could find a way to tame werewolves during the full moon? With the Wolfsbane potion quickly losing effect on the senses of those who had used it for most of their lives, a new antidote had to be found. Hermione chose not to look at how to cure them, but instead at how to tame them. For if she could give them a promise of being safe, then the Ministry could no longer strike them off as creatures instead of humans. Therefore, she would gain more of their confidence than Voldemort ever could. It was only acceptance that they seek, and if she could offer it to them, she could put a large dent in Voldemort's growing forces.

The first year was a constructive one for many. Harry married Susan in a large ceremony in the backyard of the Burrow, though it was kept secret from all those who weren't widely trusted and very close to them. It was the happiest day of his life, as he stated to Hermione more times than she could count and she had every belief that it was the whole and honest truth. From that day, hope had been rejuvenated, for wasn't it said that love would bring the downfall of hate? The days no longer seemed so dark, and a certainty for victory consumed the Order members and all the good people of the Wizarding world. While hunting Horcruxes, investigating Death Eaters, and doing their best to get around the set and often crooked ways of the Ministry, Harry and the Order battled Voldemort's reign at every turn.

A breakthrough came in 1999, when Hermione had success with Remus as her partner in their werewolf taming project. While being under only half the influence of Wolfsbane potion, he was able to teach her the different pitches in voice of his species, to better understand what state he was in. Hermione learned it as if it were a language, and while she couldn't imitate most of it, she was able to learn how to speak to him in a way that would calm him, and understand his every meaning. It was widely known that werewolves attack humans out of nature, but Hermione was quickly learning it was out of fear of being killed themselves. As they were being brought up to believe that they were destined to be hunted and destroyed.

Early on in their research, it came to be that Hermione fell in love. Finding her equal in Remus Lupin, both in mind and spirit, she found herself bonded to him in more ways than one. While they shared a dream for the future, a hope for wizardkind, a thirst for knowledge, and a deep seeded protection and trust for their friends, they soon found themselves connected at the heart. Marrying early that year, Remus and Hermione Lupin further proved to the werewolf clans that a brighter future could be set for them. Voldemort soon learned that slowly, his army of werewolves were traveling away from him, to find refuge and hope in the werewolf trainers.

It was also during this year, that Ginny Weasley found love in an unlikely suitor. Blaise Zabini, a former Slytherin, had offered his assistance to the right side, shortly after becoming an Auror for the Ministry. While not quite accepted at first, he proved himself to be a strong ally, helping the likes of Harry, Hermione, and Ron various times before finally being inducted in the Order. Time being of the essence, a marriage formed between them shortly before the Final Battle in 2000. Blaise made the decision not to hide his allegiance or his marriage from the Wizarding world and while he was shunned by various friends and family members, he kept his promise to both his wife and the Order. He fought for justice, not power.

While breakthroughs had been made, there were also numerous losses. Neville Longbottom, a strong member of the Order and an Auror trainee, was killed in Diagon Alley during a shocking Death Eater attack. While trying to shield a group of children from the chaos and mess of curses and hexes flying, he was hit repeatedly by the Avada curse. Also killed was Percy Weasley, during an attack at the Ministry while fleeing to alert Auror Headquarters, he was struck down by simultaneous stunners that knocked him back and out a window. It was said that the stunners killed him before the impact of the ground. And lastly, Fred and George Weasley were killed in action while scouting a group of Death Eaters on an Order mission. Having followed them to a safe house, they were found out and ambushed. Going out in a blaze of glory, fitting the twin Weasley boys, they not only destroyed the safe house, but took every Death Eater in the place down with them. A memorial for those lost was erected on Hogwarts grounds, citing them as heroes who died for what they believed in.

It was three years until the Final Battle reached them, and it was a bloody, grueling battle that reached far beyond any in history. The entire Weasley family, save for those who had perished, stood on the fields of Hogwarts, ready to fight to the death for the cause. Ron Weasley, standing proudly beside Harry and Hermione, made a final promise to his girlfriend Luna that when the fighting had ended, they would be married in a world of freedom. Students from Hogwarts joined to fiercely save the world they grew up in and not the one it was quickly becoming. Familiar faces milled through the army of good. Those of DA members, Aurors, tamed werewolf clans, what was left of Harry's Hogwarts class, professors, Gropp, and Order members.

It seemed as though the battle was in Harry's favor. With the Horcruxes found and destroyed, Voldemort was far more vulnerable than he had expected. The battle raged for hours, neither wanting to back down and admit retreat. And when Harry finally met Voldemort in the middle, the side of good looked ready to cheer with victory. Many Death Eater's had fallen, though they were woven across the ground with the bodies of the likes of Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, Charlie Weasley, and many, many others. The Golden Trio had seen the fall of Molly Weasley, though she fought valiantly until the end. And poor Hagrid too was taken, as he fought with his brother Gropp against the trolls and giants trying to attack from the sides. However, it was not until a very important person in Harry's life had been killed that the battle turned for the worst.

Susan Potter, who had made it nearly until the end, was struck down by a vicious green curse just a few short feet from her husband's side. Her lifeless eyes and limp body fell from the air in what seemed like slow motion, gaining the attention of all those around her. Overwhelmed with shock and grief, Harry abandoned his post against Voldemort and stumbled his way to his wife's side. It was as he was cradling her lifeless body, tears streaming down his cheeks, that his will and power seemed to deflate entirely. The battle and courage he once possessed had been stripped from him entirely, and the loss of so many became Harry's final straw. Voldemort saw an advantage and he mercilessly killed Harry while he wept against his dead wife's hand.

Horror and disbelief gripped the likes of Harry's army and they stood uncertain what to do. With bated breath, they waited to see what Voldemort would say or do in the moments after Harry's demise, only to find him drained of energy and barely able to stand any longer. With a victorious laugh, he fell to his knees and shouted out for all to hear, "_See your hero now, you pathetic fools? You have chosen your side and now you see it was the wrong one! I will rule you all_!" he bellowed, before apparating away in a lackluster manner.

Overcome and uncertain, Hermione stared down at her best friend's dead body, agony tearing at the strings of her heart, before coming to the decision that he would not die in vain. Death Eaters still roamed the ground and while they all seemed to be laughing in victory, they were far too sure of themselves. Hermione turned her wand on the first one she saw and gathered her pent up hatred. Screaming the _Avada_ curse, she destroyed him or her, she wasn't sure for the mask hid their face. And with one last ferocious battle cry, she announced, "_It is **not** over_!" With what little hope they had, the Order and army stood behind her and battled fiercely until the last of Voldemort's forces apparated away in retreat.

While Voldemort had killed Harry, he had not won overall. With Harry's death came a loss of his power. Drained and nearly powerless, he was forced into hiding until he could build himself back up. Hermione and Ron stood in Harry's stead, making it known that the War was far from over. However, during the three years after the war the Wizarding world did not get any less chaotic, but more. Voldemort's Death Eater's still roamed the lands, reeking havoc whenever possible. Their attacks become more targeted and they soon began picking off vital members of the Order and people known for being high supporters of Hermione and Ron, who were standing as the heads of the Order since graduation.

It was a little over a year after the battle that took Harry, that the Zabini couple were killed. While in Diagon Alley a Death Eater attack fell upon them in a rush of action. Spectators said that they were looking solely for Blaise and Ginny and when they found them, they struck ruthlessly. Blaise was killed while shielding his wife from the oncoming assault, and fell only after being numerously stunned, hexed, and finally cursed. Ginny, becoming enraged by her husband's death, ran headfirst into the fight, taking four Death Eater's in her stead before she too was cursed to death by green.

Death Eater attacks were on the rise and Order members had to be more careful where they went and who they spoke to. Thankfully, McGonagall, Moody, Tonks, and Kingsley Shacklebolt were still big players in the Order and, as of yet, alive and as well as could be expected. The Ministry was in shambles and Auror's soon became free agents, most of them pledging their allegiance to the Order. Voldemort was still in hiding, though word came that he was gaining his power back more and more. Hermione and Remus kept up with training werewolves, not only to show that they believed there was a future ahead, but because they were unwilling to admit defeat in any way. Nearly the whole of werewolf clans, save for those nearest Fenrir Greyback, took part in Hermione and Remus' training program. There was hope yet.

It wasn't until early 2003 that a large dent had been put into plans for the future. While sitting down to dinner with his wife and one year old daughter, Brooke, Ron Weasley's home was under attack. Taking out his wand, he ordered Luna to take their daughter and get herself to the fireplace, where she could then floo to the Lupin household for safety. Rushing through the house, Ron was engaged in a fight for himself and his family almost immediately. Injured constantly, he refused to lay down and die until he was sure his family had made it out. Unfortunately, as he was backed closer to the living room, where Luna was running toward the fireplace, floo powder in hand, he had to watch as she was killed, shielding her daughter in her arms. Roaring in rage, Ron turned his wand on Bellatrix Lestrange, who cackled insanely over the death of Luna Weasley and held her wand to the young baby Brooke, who cried terribly in her mother's shielding but dead arms. Undaunted, the cruel and savage woman cursed the young child and then laughed in Ron's outraged and heartbroken face as she left him in his desperate mourning for all of a few minutes. After enjoying his pain, she killed him too, leaving the house with a foreboding dark mark hanging in the sky.

Hermione was forced into the position as sole director of the Order after the death of her last best friend. She was barely given time to mourn, as destruction soon took over the streets and the people of the Wizarding world were beginning to turn on one another. Society was crying out for a hero and she was thrown into the limelight faster than she could say "rest in peace". Her work in training werewolves made her the last person to see any sort of bright future and people fed off of it. With Remus by her side, she did her best to reassure those around her that there was still fight left in all of them. Becoming sure that there was a spy in her Order, she turned it upside down, searching for a leak. Too many of her closest friends and allies were being killed in places that Voldemort's forces shouldn't know about. She came up empty handed, but learned only to trust the fewest of the few.

Shortly after Ron's death, an attack on Bill and Fleur Weasley left them unable to have children in the future. Fleur was harmed internally by a powerful hex and it was soon realized that the Weasley blood line was all but diminished. Not long after, the couple left Wizarding Britain, to return to Fleur's home in France in hopes of gathering themselves. While still pledging themselves to the Order, they were in need of a grieving period and nobody could blame them. Arthur Weasley checked himself into St. Mungo's indefinitely, after losing far too many for him to coherently exist in the world. While he was offered solace and comfort in the presence of all those who were left, he felt living in a world where all but one of his children was dead and his dear "Mollywobbles" was gone, he simply couldn't be of any help any longer.

Hermione found herself as the poster girl for the end of Voldemort's reign. Pressure became a regularity in her life and she was never without a duty to perform. Finding herself left in a world where the only person that mattered to her any longer was her husband, Hermione battled against the idea that hope was nearly lost. Remus soon became her only life line and saving grace. Holding her up when all seemed to be lost, he shielded her from the destruction that went on just outside their home. While she put on a brave face for the Order and the citizens of the Wizarding world who criticized her anytime another was lost or another attack happened, she admitted only to herself and Remus that she was scared to her very bones. Optimism seemed to be Remus' strong suit and he never let her down when she wallowed in fear. Instead, he held her during her darkest hours, stroking her hair and wiping away her tears, while whispering words of encouragement and telling her that he believed they would defeat him.

"_Don't ever let them tell you that what you're doing isn't enough. You instill hope, Hermione. You give the Wizarding world hope, even when it seems all of it has died. There aren't many who can do that, love_," he would tell her. "_You are brilliant, and there's no need for a prophecy to tell us so. If anyone can defeat Voldemort, then I believe it's you. Harry... he was brave and he sacrificed so much for the betterment of the Wizarding world. He didn't deserve to die. I loved him as I did his father, and I want to believe that he's in a better place. With Lily and James, and Sirius! And his Susan, of course, because he loved her so_." He'd clear his throat, his voice unusually scratchy with emotion, for talking of Harry and the loss that did him in would always give him his own fears. "_We're all that's left, Hermione. I'm the last Marauder, you're the last of the Golden Trio, and it's up to us to finish what was started. We can't rest until Voldemort is dead_."

And his words would always push her on another day. The light of hope that had dampened would be re-lit and Hermione would find herself with a new resolve to keep fighting and going until the bitter end. She drew off of Remus and all that he encompassed to reassure herself and others that the end was coming and it would turn in their favor. Were it not for him, she was sure, she would have been done in already. Be it from her own depression, or a Death Eater attack on her finally gone right for Voldemort, she wasn't sure. Every day Remus seemed to be saving her life or vice versa, for they were surely the biggest targets of Voldemort's by then.

It was the loss of everything and everyone that mattered most which would throw Hermione over the edge. With her best friends dead, the Weasley family in shambles, the Order getting smaller each day from losses, and hope dangling on a very thin string, Hermione had nobody but Remus left. On the fateful day that her husband was taken from her, Hermione's resolve was finally broken. The flame of freedom, hope for victory, and deep seeded trust that whatever happened, she'd at least have Remus, had been diminished. Perhaps a small bit of her sanity was taken too, as she became consumed with only one thing in life. Destroying Bellatrix Lestrange for killing Remus. It was in her need for redemption that she ran across a spell. Throwing all she knew about time travel and the laws that state nothing can be changed out the window, Hermione made a drastic decision out of depression and loss. Gathering resources and all the knowledge she'd need, Hermione decided that the future she lived in could not come to be. But to change it all, she had to go back further than just two months, when Remus was ripped from her. No, it'd be twenty-seven years into the past for her, to the very first day of Remus' seventh year. At twenty-three years old, Hermione would go to a time where she didn't exist at all, to change the whole course of history as she knew it.

The knowledge she possessed would make her dangerous and a liability. The power she held in her grasp was unattainable and nearly unmanageable. With revenge coursing through her blood, blind hope that she could save them all prevailing in her mind, and a love for her husband and his belief in her, Hermione set out to give justice to all that deserve it. Even if it means giving up the one person who made her whole: Remus.

* * *

**A/N** _I know what your thinking (if you've read my other stories)... how does she do it? How many stories is that, Amanda? How can you possibly keep all of them going? Well... I believe I'm a miracle worker... lol, at least when it comes to being able to juggle various stories, plot lines, and characters all at once. This will not detract me from my other stories, I assure you. This story already had five more chapters written to it, and more is to come. I also have a D/Hr story, if you're interested, that has yet to be posted. It's called, "**Secret Life**," and has about fifteen chapters already written. I could start posting it too... Hmm..._

_In any case, I hope you've enjoyed this story. I thought it was a wonderful plot line, and I've never found a story that involves Hermione being a werewolf tamer. The main plot circulates werewolves and changing the past, while, of course, trying to mourn and grapple with seeing her husband 27 years younger and alive. I really hope you've liked this, please review, I'd love to know what you think!_

_Much Love,  
-**Amanda**_


	2. One

**Review offering insight to the story**:

"_Okay, I have to say that you are by far my favourite story starter! That chapter made me so excited! I can't wait to see what happens. It was also a fair assessment of how badly the war could go, though from a thinking stand point it seems odd that Hermione would be forced into such a high position of power... but, you can sort of feel that that's exactly what would happen with the passing of all of those people: who but Hermione would lead? Could lead? Anyway, as per usual I am loving your writing, and I'm excited by all your up and coming stories! Go team_!" - **_emtylil'firefly_** of FanFiction net.

Thank you to the following reviewers: RosieLady, Phoenix flame01, Hotkat144, Black-Rose23, x-Lazart-x, hawkeyehellsing, MoonNightLover, Nynaeve80, Whispers, Viktor Krum's lazyllama101, chelseathomson123, Dizi85, **PiperPaigePhoebe01, bethygirl94, Suzy87** and _especially_** _emptylil'firefly_**,and** _galloping-goose_ **_(Zeus)_.

_**The Werewolf Trainer**_

_One_

A familiar sight took place as Hermione slept late into the night, her body wriggled and fought the ghosts of her mind while her throat strained against the agonized screams of terror and sadness that begged to be free. The sheets tangled in her limbs, while she kicked and rolled, as though trying to get away from what her mind replayed for her, time and again. The same scene tore her open, leaving her shaking in pain each time she awoke. She had been plagued with nightmares for three years, though they changed from person to person. After Harry's death, it repeated in her mind for three years of sleep, plaguing her and tearing her soul apart. After Ron's death, she was instead left with what her mind perceived to be the death of him and his family, always so cruel and painful to see. But it wasn't until Remus' death that she found herself inconsolable. In the past, she had him to soothe away the fear and agony of it all. He would wake her when her cries shook him from his slumber. He would reassure her that it was all a nightmare and not happening right then, and he'd be able to bring her back to the world. With his arms around her, she felt safe and comforted. But she didn't have him now, and she was forced, every night, to see his death play out before her eyes.

_Walking down the cobblestone streets of Diagon Alley, Remus and Hermione surveyed every face that passed them by. The rise in Death Eater attacks had them on edge and most of the Order was against their going out at all any more. They needed supplies though, if they planned on keeping the training of werewolves going for the next month. A full moon was approaching soon and Hermione didn't allow any of the clans to leave the area when she was training them. While she had faith in most of them, she was taking no chances. There was a deserted area planned out for their next meeting, deep in a forest where Hermione and Remus would surely be safe from the cruelty of Voldemort and his followers for at least a few days. It was a welcomed break, even if their actions still had something to do with the War._

_Their work was making a difference, Remus was sure of it. He told her constantly that she was making a breakthrough. The other werewolves were beginning to understand her just as well as he was, aside from the few quirks that Remus and Hermione had that couldn't be learned. Certain words or actions were akin to only him and Hermione was the only one who understood them. A language of sorts was made though, and she could speak to them, often times with her hands in a warped version of sign language. Many were worried about her being hidden away with seventy or so werewolves, with only her husband to keep her safe, but Hermione knew that none of the werewolves would ever attack her. There was something about the way they looked at her now, akin to awe perhaps. They looked up to her, treated her as though she was their creator and master. It was an odd sense of devotion they had, but they would put their very lives on the line for her, she knew. They looked at Remus with the same pride and Hermione sometimes joked that they were King and Queen of the werewolf clans. While Remus laughed, she sometimes noticed he looked as though he was actually agreeing with her, honestly. _

_It was the devotion they possessed for the Lupin couple that had caught the attention of Fenrir Greyback. While the Lupin Werewolf Project had been kept under wraps as much as possible, word had been leaking out to Voldemort's followers. It was well known amongst certain supporters of the cause against Voldemort that Hermione and Remus were gathering help from the werewolves, but they had done all they could to keep Voldemort from turning the werewolf influence back to him. After Fenrir found out about it however, he was enraged by the idea and had been quite adamant on telling Remus and Hermione so. Various threats had been handed out and even a few botched attacks on the Lupin's, but the project prevailed thus far. Voldemort was gaining more interest in them however, and Hermione's new image as the Witch-of-Hope had chafed the dark wizard enough to make him attempt her destruction nearly daily. So far, the Lupin's had managed to stave off death and they weren't planning on giving in any time soon._

"_We need more meat, Remus," Hermione reminded, glancing up at him. "Our last batch didn't hold them over. Nearly half went hunting part way through the night. It's dangerous. I don't want them out of my sight for long periods."_

_He nodded, lifting his hands and running them up through the back of his hair. "How many do we have now?" he wondered, lifting his eyes up. "A new clan joined shortly after the last full moon, didn't they?" he asked, his brow cocking and his mouth turning in a thoughtful frown._

"_Seventy or so. And we did get a new clan recently, but they won't be coming with us on this retreat," she reminded, shaking her head. "It's too soon for them. We have to wean them off the Wolfsbane potion a few months before we bring them up. They've been on it a whole lot longer than most of the clans," she reminded, looking rather happy about it. "You know what that means," she said, grinning._

"_That we're stuck with annoyed werewolves in our basement pen for the next three or four months," he replied, sardonically._

"_No," she drew out, still looking quite happy. "It means that we're even getting through to some of the older werewolves. It's easier to get through to those who've been changed for less years, if only because they want to be considered normal. But the older are more set in their ways, they've gained a way of life and they don't want the unattainable dangled in front of them." She nodded, stopping to step in front of him and look up into his eyes. "We're really doing it, Remus. We're getting through," she told him, her voice nearly as surprised as her eyes were while they sparkled up at her grinning husband._

_He laughed lightly, wrapping his arms around her waist and leaning down toward her, his mouth slanting over hers in a short but adoring kiss. "Like there were any doubts," he replied, shaking his head. "I must say, Mrs. Lupin, this is certainly one of your more brilliant ideas," he teased._

_She rolled her eyes, pursing her lips at him to stop the smile that tugged at her mouth. Dramatically sighing, she replied, "I thought the plan to have numerous werewolf babies and create our own army to take over the entire world was quite cunning, actually." She winked at him, "And it would be fun."_

"_Fun indeed," he replied, chuckling lightly as he leaned in and pressed his lips to the side of her mouth, rubbing his cheek over hers as he pulled her closer for a warm hug. "We're gaining ground and trust. Before long, we'll have all the clans on our sides. Imagine the odds then. Now... if only we knew somebody who could speak Troll and Giant, we'd be well on our way to taking most of Voldemort's army," he said, amusement in his voice._

_Hermione laughed, making a noise from the back of her throat that in the odd werewolf language meant she was playfully warning him. It was usually followed by pawing at the ground, but seeing as her arms were around him, she really couldn't manage that. After embracing for a short while, they broke apart and Hermione moved to stand by his side, her arm around his back. "You know what else we need?" she asked, turning her head up as it rested against his bicep._

"_What?" he wondered, looking down at her, amber eyes flashing as they walked into a store and his vision adjusted to the lighting._

"_Lacewing flies, I need to begin brewing the Wolfsbane potion for the new clan. I haven't had to make it in awhile and the my last batch would have spoiled by now. They have some for this transformation, but I'll need some for next month." Given that the potion took weeks to prepare, Hermione would have to set out making it before they left for the forest retreat._

"_Who'll be staying with them at our house?" he wondered, his hand reaching out to a jar on a shelf, checking what was contained inside._

"_Tonks offered," she said, a frown present on her face. The former Auror wasn't one of Hermione's biggest fans and her clumsy habit always seemed to break something Hermione liked whenever she was at their home._

_Remus laughed lightly, replacing the jar and looking for another. "You two really need to talk about this silly feud."_

"_She started it," Hermione mumbled childishly. Examining the various ingredients hanging on a wall, Hermione pursed her lips in concentration as she studied a long vine. If she was correct, then she was looking at a very exotic plant, ones which thorns were sought for some of the most dark potions. Sighing, she turned back to her husband who was knelt low by a dusty cannister, checking the price of a jar of lacewing flies._

"_Not to her understanding," Remus replied, nodding at the cannister and rising from the floor._

"_Marrying you was not my way of starting a feud with her," Hermione told him, rolling her eyes. "I realize she really liked you, and I knew that when I started dating you. She didn't have much of a problem with it until we announced our marriage, and I believe you remember her reaction to that!" she reminded, nodding shortly as they walked up to the counter to pay for a few of the ingredients they had picked out. Hermione grabbed another up from a table as she passed, remembering that Kingsley was in need of a salve for a burn on his forearm._

"_She was surprised," Remus told her, though he wrinkled his nose as he too remembered what she had shouted at Hermione over the fact that Remus was marrying her. He sighed, shrugging, "Despite the fact that she was quite rude that day, I think she was only upset because it became more real that what she thought was going to happen between me and her was, in fact, not," he said, ever the mediator._

"_Obviously," she responded, placing the jars on the counter and shaking her head. "But you have to admit that even after she got over her immediate reaction, what she's done since then has only been worthy of my retribution."_

_Remus' mouth twitched on one side with amusement. "Hermione, I realize you loved that quilt that she accidentally dropped in the fire, but I don't believe hexing her face upside down and turning her skin purple for a month was apt retribution."_

"_Accidentally," she scoffed, ignoring the rest of what he said. "That quilt was a Lupin family heirloom."_

_He sighed, pulling his wallet out to pay for their items. "She is quite clumsy, it's possible that she didn't _mean_ to do what she did."_

"_Remus, she does it every time she steps in our house," Hermione replied, shaking her head. "I know you want to believe that she's still sweet, quirky Tonks, but the War changed her too. Her bitterness just happens to be taken out on me," she said, frowning, "and my favorite things."_

"_Well, you never really liked that tea set we had any way," he reminded, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer so he could kiss the top of her head. They left the shop, making their way across the cobblestone path, their eyes set on another shopping area. Her hand was resting on his far side, slipped beneath his jacket, he could feel the heat of her palm through his shirt._

_She chuckled, rolling her eyes. "Yes, but that's not the point. If you remember, I mentioned that it was my favorite tea set-"_

"_So you lied," he interrupted, lifting his brow amusedly._

"_Yes, but she didn't know that," Hermione reminded, shaking her head for emphasis, "And you'll notice that she broke it not long after. So, you see, she goes after things I like."_

_Remus sighed with defeat, "Fine. She's out to get you. I can't blame her, really, I'm quite the catch," he said, grinning._

_Hermione shook her head, looking up at him. "On occasion, I guess," she replied cheekily._

_Chortling goodnaturedly, he turned down to reply, but then stopped. The expression on his face slipped away to be replaced with alert concern. He turned quickly, his eyes thinning and his head tipped. "Death Eaters," he told her, grimacing. "Coming this way."_

_Hermione sighed, shaking her head and pulling her wand from the belt of jeans. "Hide the potion ingredients somewhere, we'll grab them before we leave or come back for them," Hermione told him, her back stiffening with resolve._

_Remus hurried over to a table near a shop and stuck the bag underneath before pulling out his own wand and coming back to her. The sounds of mayhem soon reached their ears and smoke could be seen in the distance. The screams of innocent bystanders reached their ears and they began running towards the source to help. Tipping her wand up, Hermione pressed it against the colourful phoenix necklace around her throat, chanting the world, "help." Immediately she noticed the flash of light on Remus' necklace, which meant that her message went through to all Order members that they were in need of back up and in distress. Because they knew where Remus and Hermione had gone, she didn't expect them to take long and dearly hoped they wouldn't._

_They ran into the thick of things after rounding a corner. People were running around in mass hysteria, screaming and trying to defend themselves by shooting everything in sight. The bodies that lined the ground, having already been cursed by the Death Eaters making their way toward Remus and Hermione, were being trampled and tripped over. Hermione shook her head at the scene, the way they were acting made them susceptible to attack. They weren't covering each other or their own backs, they were just fleeing, aiming at anything, taking out innocents as they went. Hermione reminded herself that they weren't Auror's, but simple civilians. They were trying to get away alive, they had no grasp of attaining safety or how to save others. It was kill or be killed, really._

_Hermione and Remus were pushing people out of the way, trying to get close enough to the Death Eaters to stun them or kill them, whichever was needed. There were far too many people in the way however, and unlike Voldemort's followers Hermione and Remus didn't want to hurt anybody innocent in the crossfire. Finally, they came upon a cloaked and masked duo, cruelly cursing a woman a man with Crucio over and over again. The poor wizard and witch writhed on the ground in unimaginable pain. Remus stunned one of them, immediately calling upon magical ropes to bind him. Azkaban was out of the question, but the Order had established their own prison, magically enhanced and unplottable. Hermione used a hurling hex on the other and was pleased to see the Death Eater knocked out as they collided with the front window of a shop, shattering it and falling unconscious on the floor._

_Turning their attention to the other three Death Eaters advancing on them, Remus and Hermione avoided using the Avada curse until it was absolutely necessary. They'd rather see them rotting away in prison than dying in what would be considered a 'blaze of glory' for their "Dark Lord". They would consider it honorable, and besides that, most of the Order didn't like resorting to darker spells to end destruction. Death only begets more death, as Hermione had once told them. Sometimes though, it was necessary, and there were some Death Eaters that were sentenced to death on sight. Draco Malfoy was currently being sought by the shifty and not entirely powerful Ministry, but most importantly by the Order. Along with Bellatrix Lestrange, Lucius Malfoy, and Fenrir Greyback. All those that were considered to be Voldemort's bigger allies and more known murderers, were being hunted by the Order. Unfortunately, all had been able to allude them thus far._

_It was while Remus was battling a Death Eater away from torturing a small child that the red curse connected with him. Hermione had just finished binding a man after easily dueling him and winning when she turned to see it hurling towards him. She had run to push him out of the way, shouting for him to move, but it was far too quick and her feet didn't measure up. There was only one Death Eater still there, and she was the one who had hit Remus and caused so much damage in the past. People were still running past, trying to flee for freedom and getting nowhere. Hermione thought nothing of the woman yards away from her, maskless and simply watching the scene with cruel amusement, but instead hurried to kneel beside her husband._

_Remus stared up at her, his teeth stained with the watery red blood exiting his mouth. The Reducto curse had hit him hard in the stomach and he wasn't going to be breathing much longer. Bellatrix's cackle could be heard in the distance, gleefully mocking him. There were too many people around for Hermione to be an open target now, though she didn't think of that at all as she bent closer to her husband, her hand reaching out to somehow stop the gushing blood from his stomach. He was twitching and trying to curl his legs up against his chest, but his body wasn't listening. Her hand was swamped in blood before she could blink and she stared down at Remus with watery eyes and a sob ripping its way out of her throat. "You'll be fine, you're going to be okay," she promised, her words wobbly and croaky._

_"No, love, I'm afraid... this..." He cut himself off, his eyes tightening as a wave of pain tore at his limbs, "this is... the end of my journey," he told her, shaking his head and opening his eyes to look up at her beautiful face, tears streaming down from her eyes. He sounded so sure, so accepting, that it just hurt more. People shouldn't be ready for this, they shouldn't expect to be killed as they spent the day with their wife._

_"Don't leave me, Remus, I... I can't do it without you. Oh Merlin, I can't make it without you, please," she whimpered, shaking her head and leaning closer to him, her free hand running through his hair, trying to soothe him as best she could. Her eyes stared at him searchingly and her hands shook with the need to do something, anything, that would ensure he would live. He was everything to her, her whole life was wrapped around him. They were supposed to have a future. One where the world was safe, where their children could grow up happy. They were supposed to save the world together._

_The crowd thinned around them and Hermione looked around for anyone resembling that of an Order member. She noticed that Bellatrix was no longer there and she felt an agonized rage pull at her. She would pay, she thought, with her life! Where were the Order? Why weren't they there yet? Remus was dying and nobody was there to save him? They were abandoned and left to fight it all for themselves. Useless, she deduced, useless Order!_

_"You can do it, H-Hermione," he told her, staring up into her shimmering brown eyes. "You have to believe in yourself. Don't... Don't let him s-scare you into d-d-doubting your abilities," he said, trying to keep his wavering voice firm. "You..." His breathing became too labored to speak for a moment, "You're the brightest witch, love. The brightest witch to ever come out of H-Hogwarts. You can do it, I know you can. Just..." He shook his head, swallowing painfully. His eyes filled, tears swallowing him whole and choking off his words. His chin shook violently and his throat burned incessantly, the need to say so much, and finding all words lacking. "I love you, you know that, right? You know I love you?" he asked, becoming slightly hysterical and worried._

_"I know, I know," she reassured, crying and coming closer. "I love you too, Remus. Please, darling, just hold on. Help is coming, any minute now," she told him, nodding quickly and moving closer to his face, pressing her cheek against his, her tears warm against his cold skin. She kissed his skin, needing to be as close to him as possible. His own tears slipped down the side of his face and Hermione wiped them away, though hers were drenching the cheeks, she kissed them away, too._

_"I-I don't want to die," he told her, sounding rather astonished by the revelation. She sobbed, heartbroken, and shook her head, murmuring that he wasn't going to. "I... I've wanted to for so long, love. For so many years, I welcomed the... the idea of death," he admitted, his voice choked up. "But I don't want to go now," he told her, inhaling sharply, "I don't want to leave you."_

_"Then don't, Remus, please don't," she told him, her hands curling tightly in his hair as she brought herself closer, kissing over his face and crying against him. There was so much blood, it was coming out of his mouth, staining his stubbly jaw. She remembered telling him that morning that he should shave, but he just rubbed it against her cheek, tickling her skin, and told her he'd do it later. There would be no later, not for anything. "I love you, I love you so much, don't leave me. Please..." she whimpered, her body feeling as though it were collapsing in on itself. She couldn't breathe, it hurt to. All of it hurt so much._

_"I... I don't think I h-have a choice," he told her, honestly, his voice cutting out in spasms of trying to inhale air, but only getting a little each time. "I-I want y-you to remember, love," he told her, his mouth shaking. "I b-believe in y-you, always," he promised, his hand shaking as it lifted to slip into her hair, his palm caressing her cheek, smearing it with his blood. "And I l-love you. I l-loved you ev-every day w-we were t-togeth-ther." He gasped, his breathing hitching and his eyes widening. "Hermione," he breathed, before his eyes lost their amber shine and his hand fell limp in her hair._

_"Remus," she called out quietly, staring down at his unmoving face. "Remus," she said a little louder, shaking him slightly. "Remus, no, no, don't you... Remus!" she screamed, her eyes becoming so filled she could hardly see his face. "REMUS! DAMN YOU, DON'T YOU LEAVE ME! Oh God, no... No, please..." she cried, her body wracked with sobs as she wept against him. Her breathing picked up until she suddenly let out a bloody curdling scream, clutching the lapels of his coat, her eyes staring up at the heavens, cursing them for taking everything from her._

_Time passed, she didn't know how long until she felt people dragging her away from her husband. It could have been minutes, seconds, or even hours, she was lost in her desperation. His blood had dried against her skin, hair, and clothes, and she was left in a mess of somber depression. She could hear voices, all hollow in her ears. She wasn't sure how long it had been since she blinked, but as Remus began to get smaller and smaller in her vision as she was taken away, she began to struggle. "No! Take me back! Take me back to him!" she exclaimed, pushing against the people trying to pull her away._

_"It's a lost cause," Moody's gruff voice told her. "He's gone. There's nothing you can do. I'm sorry," he said, trying not to sound calloused but unable to sound comforting._

_"LET ME GO!" she screamed, pushing against Kingsley Shacklebolt and Moody as they continued to try and get her further away from her husband's limp body. "He's all alone. He can't be alone! Let me go! I need to be with him! I _have_ to be with him!" she told them, tears bursting from her dry and burning eyes. "Remus, wake up, please, you have to wake up," she cried, shaking her head._

_MacGonagall was coming at her, but Hermione didn't want the grandmotherly force around her. The Headmistress was trying to calm Hermione down, but she wasn't having any of it. She wasn't aware how hysterical and possibly insane she was sounding, she was ripe with sorrow and unable to accept that the last person who truly mattered was gone. She was all alone. Her friends were dead, her mentor was gone, the Weasley family was all but demolished, and now... now her beloved Remus was taken from her too. It was too much, she couldn't handle it. _

_"Hermione, please, we're only trying to do what's best," Minerva's voice told her._

_"Best?" she spat, her eyes red and teary. "What could any of you possibly do to make any of this better? I've lost all of them! ALL OF THEM! I have no one!" she screamed, shaking her head and letting her body go limp in the arms of the Auror's holding her back. "He was all I had left! He was the only one who mattered any more!" she exclaimed, her voice shattering. "Don't you understand? It's over," she told the older woman, who stared at her stricken, as though the world had finally ended. "What do I have to fight for?" she asked her, her voice final and empty._

_"They..." The woman swallowed, trying to look stern or reassuring, Hermione couldn't tell. "They wouldn't want you to give up," she told her, though her words were quite lacking._

_Hermione laughed callously, her hysteria getting the better of her. "Give up? You think after all of this, I've _given up_?" she asked, leaping to her feet and ripping her arms from the hands of Kingsley and Moody so quickly they were unable to detain her. "Giving up implies that there is something left to fight for. Look around you," she told her, her face curled in vicious anger. "Where is Harry and Susan? Or Ginny and Blaise? Dumbledore or Sirius? Where is Ron and Luna? Fred and George? Molly, Charlie, and Percy? Huh?" she asked, her voice raising as her breathing increased. "WHERE IS REMUS, MINERVA? WHERE IS MY HUSBAND?" she screamed, wanting nothing more than to reach out and strike everything near her. _

_Her knees buckled and she fell in a heap on the ground. "He believed in me. He thought I... I could save the world," she told her, her voice soft now, and croaky with emotion. She laughed self deprecatingly. "As if I'd want to if I don't have him by my side," she said, shaking her head and letting her defenses drop entirely, too tired to care any longer. She sniffled, a dark expression coming over her face. "I'm going to kill Bellatrix and then I'm done with this. All of it!" she exclaimed._

_"B-But Hermione, please, think about what you're saying," Minerva said, her face horrified and her hands holding tightly to one another. "You're our strongest link in the Order, dear. You're... Without you it will all fall apart," she admitted, shaking her head. "And your research, your and Remus' work with werewolves, it's essential to--"_

_"I'M DONE!" Hermione shouted, cutting her off. "I don't care about any of it anymore. I want Remus brought to justice and then I'm gone," she told her, her voice wavering with anger._

_"Be rational," Moody interrupted, sounding only mildly concerned. "Where will you go when this is all done? You can't just walk away! You have connections here, responsibilities."_

_"My responsibility was just killed in the street in broad daylight, with not an Auror or Order member in sight to help him," Hermione snarled, whipping her head back. "Where the hell were the rest of you while he laid bleeding on the ground?" she barked, her voice vicious and cutting. "Nowhere!"_

_"We were on our way, there wasn't much time, Hermione," Kingsley replied, looking rather angered by her insinuation that they hadn't tried to get there in time. "We got here as fast as we could."_

_"Well it wasn't fast enough," she yelled, her face flushing from her rage._

_"Hermione," MacGonagall said, her voice trying to soothe the woman's anger. "R-Remus, he was hurt badly, dear, he wouldn't have... He wouldn't have made it even if we had gotten him to St. Mungo's or Madame Pomfrey. I'm afraid he couldn't be saved," she told her, gently._

_"Yes, it appears most aren't saveable these days," she replied scornfully. Her head was becoming hazy and she felt as though she were swaying. It was quite possible that she was about to pass out and the idea didn't seem wrong to her. If she closed her eyes, would she see Remus' face? Maybe she'd hit her head hard enough to join him where he was going... What a cowardly thought, she decided. She felt weary and tired, too much so to think on it. She wanted to go to sleep. Back at home, in her warm bedroom, under the heavy beige and white duvet, with Remus' arms around her, his face pressed against her neck. Tears swam in her eyes, she would never have that again. He was gone. "Gone," she whispered, before the inky darkness took her away._

Startled awake, Hermione sat panting in her bed, upright and pressing her hand against her rapidly beating heart. She could feel sweat making its way down her back and shook her head, trying to rid it of the images. Her heart ached, not only because she was breathing so quickly she was barely getting any oxygen at all, but because it wasn't a simply nightmare, but reality. Her eyes were drawn to the empty half of the large bed and tears pricked at her eyes. A sob rose up in her throat and she tore out of bed, her body shaking and a headache creating havoc on her temples. By the darkness coming through the window, she knew that it was still late at night. Picking up Remus' flannel robe from off the chair in the dark corner, Hermione wrapped herself in it, inhaling the warm scent of her husband, her breath hitching in pain. Blinking back the blinding tears, she left the bedroom and made her way down the stairs, candles lighting themselves from the charm placed on them as she passed.

Her eyes glanced at the photos to her right, each of them had been turned around, so the moving pictures were facing the wall. She couldn't look at them. Couldn't bear to see his smiling face, or her friends happy expressions. That was the past and she had none of it to look forward to in the future. The house was lit eerily, shadows playing over everything. She could hear scurrying outside, but knew what it was. Her house had become more protected than any other in the Wizarding world. Her werewolf clans had claimed the right to keep her safe now that Remus was gone. Since she wasn't speaking with any of the Order, the clans weren't even letting them by. Her house was surrounded non-stop, and she had some of her more trustworthy werewolves actually living inside the house.

Brighton Louis, one of Remus' favorites, he and her husband had gotten along quite well and he'd been one of the first to join the project, was currently staying in the first floor bedroom, just down the hall from the study. Darnell Lazarovici, an older werewolf who reminded her vaguely of Moody, with his gruff appearance and personality, was a bit of a fatherly type and he resided in the room down the hall from Hermione and Remus', though he often stayed downstairs in the den, curled up in front of the fire. Lastly, Jacques Laroche, a younger werewolf who looked at her as though she were his mother even though they were nearly the same age, was camped out in the bedroom separated only by a bathroom near Hermione's. Originally, when the war had ended, Hermione wanted it to be the nursery when her and Remus had children. She sniffed at the thought, and ran her hands over her face, feeling tired and deflated.

Making her way to the stove, she prepared the tea pot and sat down at the kitchen table. The half moon shone up in the sky and she could see it perfectly from her seat. Hearing the soft padding of feet, she knew one of the werewolves had woken up and wasn't surprised when Darnell, an older man with dark skin and curly greying hair sat down across from her. His amber eyes shone in the candle light, and Hermione frowned intensely as they brought up memories of her husband. He stared at her, understanding in his gaze though he never spoke of it. He had stated once that he would show no pity, because she had enough of that for herself. "Awake again, I see," he said, his voice deep and rumbling. It seemed to fill the hollows of the house, making it feel less empty around her.

She simply nodded, rising from her seat as the pot began to whistle for her attention. After pouring them both a cup, she placed his in front of him and then placed two lumps of sugar in hers and a teaspoon of cream, before stirring it. She stared down into the brown liquid, watching it swirl around the spoon. Her stomach felt as though someone had gripped it tight and she sat remembering all the afternoons she spent having tea with Remus and discussing everything from grass to sky. It all felt so lonely now, without his voice around her, his body near her, his comfort or understanding. She missed his laugh and the way he made the darkest of days into something worth getting through. She ached for him to kiss her temple or hug her tight, to tell her that he loved her and he'd always be there. Her body shook and she once against questioned how she was going to go on. It had been almost two months, and still it felt like nothing had gotten better. Would it ever?

Pushing away her pain and sorrow, she replaced it with the simmering anger against Bellatrix and Voldemort. She felt herself close up then, caging up the hurt to feel later, perhaps that's why it wasn't getting any better. Instead of grieving and moving forward, she was holding onto it. Maybe when Bellatrix was finally dead, killed for all her deeds, for what she did to Remus, then Hermione would take the time to truly feel. She wouldn't rest until Lestrange had paid for her sins and Remus' death was avenged. Turning her face up, she looked at Darnell, who was frowning slightly, his face weary. "Any news of Lestrange?" she wondered, lifting her tea and sipping it.

He sighed, crossing his arms and glancing out the window, watching as various men walked the perimeter. "She was seen attacking 'ogsmeade earlier tonight, but she was gone before anybody could alert you," he informed her, shaking his head. "We may 'ave a destination and time on 'er next attack. I'll let you know," he assured.

Hermione nodded slowly, fiddling with her hands on top of the table, feeling frustrated with how long it was taking to find her. She should have known. They'd been trying to find her for years, why would it suddenly become easy? Perhaps she had assumed that her anger and hatred toward the woman would cause her to trip up and open a door that hadn't been there before, one that would lead Hermione right to her. That wasn't the case, and without the Order and its informants, she was relying solely on her werewolf clans and the people she knew. Given that she had all the resources the Order did, it wasn't that hard, but she had to be careful who she spoke to. She didn't want word getting back to the Order, because she didn't want them involved. Bellatrix was hers. It may have been selfish, but she wanted Bellatrix's demise solely to herself.

"MacGonagall was 'ere today," Darnell informed her, interrupting her thoughts.

Hermione scowled, sipping more of her now only warm tea. "Oh?" she said, her voice flat and uninterested.

"She insisted we allow 'er in," he told her, a small smirk finding its way onto his lightly wrinkled face. "She even pulled 'er wand, warning us that if we didn't move, she'd move us."

Hermione chuckled ever so lightly, though the sound rung empty, as usual these days. "And what did you do?"

"I didn't do anything. I knew she wouldn't really attack. She was surrounded by werewolves, she's not inept. Jacques, on the other 'and..." he said, shaking his head with mild amusement. "'E came forward and told 'er that, '_Mère Loup_ wishes to be alone. She wants nussing to do wis you. Ze Order is not appreciated 'ere any longer. Leave before I do somezing she would not wish me to,' in that infernal French accent of 'is," Darnell told her, mocking his accent with his deep, growly voice.

Hermione sighed, her hands wrapped around the cooled teacup as she stared exasperated at the tabletop. "Mother wolf," she said, translating the French title Jacques had labeled her with. Downing the last of her tea, the taste quite lacking now, she wrinkled her nose and shook her head. "They'll give up eventually," she said, more to herself than him.

"You shouldn't push them away, _copil_, you're already lacking in allies," he reminded, frowning darkly. "Remus was a good man, and an 'onorable wolf, but you need to remember that 'e fought for the cause. You and 'e were working against Voldemort, 'ermione, not for vengeance but for freedom. You--"

Hermione cut him off with a sharp glare, her face turning in a scowl. "I know what Remus and I were doing," she told him, her tone razor sharp. "And I know that it involves sacrifice and hard work. I gave all that I have, Darnell, do not presume to tell me that I don't understand what I was working toward." She heard him sigh with understanding and tried her best to let herself loosen up. Her shoulder were rigid with anger and her back strained against how tall and straight she was sitting. When she felt some of her rage dissipate, she said, "I believe in that cause still, I do. I just can't have anything to do with it, not until I have at least avenged Remus. When Bellatrix is dead, I'll consider rejoining the Order. But Darnell," she said, drawing his attention back to her, "not until then. I can't risk my life outside of dueling Bellatrix, do you understand?" she asked, truly wondering if he could.

He gave her a sharp nod, his amber eyes flashing. "You know that the clans will 'elp you in every way we can." She opened her mouth to protest, but he cut her off, "We won't fight your fight, 'ermione, but we will do all that is in our power to give you your fight," he told her, staring her straight in the eyes. "Despite what you think, you stand for 'ope for far many than you know. Remus knew that. 'E would not want you to give up all that you 'ave. The clans trust you, believe in you. They will follow no other," he told her, shaking his head. "I realize that Bellatrix is your kill, but it's best that you recognize what you're doing. You kill 'er because she killed Remus. Who then will kill you for killing 'er? And besides that, what makes 'er so much more worthy of your time and energy than all those who killed others? Voldemort who killed 'arry? Dolohov for killing 'arry's wife? Or all those others who killed the Weasley's and the members of your Order?" he asked, pointedly. "You're angry, _copil_, and you should be, but don't let it take over, 'ermione," he told her, seriously.

She stared at him, not certain what to say. "I won't, Darnell," she told him, her voice soft but promising.

He gave her a nod and then rose from the chair he occupied. "Get some sleep, _pui de lup_, you're of no 'elp tired," he told her, gruffly, though the fatherly affection was there in his amber eyes. "Off to bed with you," he said, nodding his head up. "I'll make sure Jacques keeps it down. You know how 'e gets in the morning. Damn vocal, that one," he growled, frowning.

"Oh, you like him Darnell," she told him, smiling lightly. "He's energetic and youthful, much like you probably were when you were his age."

"Never," he denied, strongly.

She shook her head, leaving the table and walking to the stairs. "Tell those boys outside they should get some sleep. They don't need to be wearing themselves out patrolling all night. Nobody even knows where this house is," she told him, climbing the stairs.

"I'll do no such thing," he told her, his voice heavy with conviction. "You'll not be left unguarded, not when Voldemort is out for your blood. It's obvious the lack of sleep is getting to you, if you think I would tell any of those _lupesc_ to nap while you're in 'ere, unable to arm yourself, you're more mental than I first thought."

She laughed, the tone light and airy, but still empty of any feeling. "Oh, but Darnell, if you'll remember, you thought I was mental in thinking I would gain the trust of werewolf packs," she reminded, mildly amused. "Look around you, I believe I've proven you wrong."

He made a grumbling noise before walking off to his den. "Sleep well, 'ermione," he commanded.

Sighing, Hermione went back to her bedroom, feeling the familiar ache as she gazed upon the large, empty bed. Instead of taking off Remus' housecoat, she climbed into their bed still swathed in it. His scent filled her senses, though it was nearly all gone from the sheets and blanket. She still had his coat and it was consumed with the scent that was completely and wholly him. Tears came to her eyes and her throat closed up on her. Pressing her face against his pillow, her hand across the space he used to occupy, she cried herself to sleep, knowing that every werewolf ear nearby could hear her clear as day.

It was a week later when Bellatrix struck again, but Hermione was ready and waiting for her this time. With her strongest werewolf pack behind her, she stood in the street of Diagon Alley, waiting for her, scowl in place. They had cleared the area of people, knowing full well that the Death Eaters fed off of causing hysteria and appearing to shock and scare all those around them. Bellatrix arrived with four Death Eater's in tow, she was the only one, however, not wearing a mask. Darnell stood beside her, his arms crossed behind his back, looking tall and proud in his stance, as though nothing could strike him down.

On her other side was Brighton, a man the same age as Remus had been, with sandy blonde hair and the familiar amber eyes that went hand in hand with all werewolves. He was a quiet man, one who only spoke when he had something wise to pass on. He reminded her of someone, which was why she found him so trustworthy she supposed. He had saved her life in the past, when one of the werewolves got out of hand. He was young and confused, new to the program, and he had rowdily come at her, claws out and teeth bared. Brighton had tackled him away from her and kept him pinned until he got across her importance of Hermione and that the wolf cub had to settle down or he would very well be killed. He and Remus had been friends nearly from the start, with the small misunderstanding of Remus first believing that Brighton had an interest in Hermione. As it turned out, he treated the young witch as though she were his younger sister, and protected her at every cost.

Behind her was Jacques, the French boy near her age who had become accustomed to shadowing her every movement. Like the two men on either side of her, he too would give his life. He was treated as the baby of the clans however, and often undervalued by most of the older werewolves. It was his close proximity to Hermione that kept him from being too ostracized and that was like part of the reason for his appreciation. He had treated Remus the same, with a sense of awe and admiration that Hermione had always found endearing. He was good with his wand too, which is why she brought him along for this fight. He was quick and unafraid in duels, so she never hesitated while he was fighting with her. She worried about him in werewolf form however, since he was much smaller than the others and tended to be rather spunky and rowdy. He often got pushed around quite a bit and usually ended up with minor injuries by the end of the full moon.

Bellatrix stood ahead of them, first looking annoyed that there were no innocents for her to play with, then looking amused by the show of Hermione and her werewolf partners. "Come to fight with the big witches, huh mudblood?" she called out, her voice grating and mocking.

Hermione felt a rage tear down her spine, and her body began to shake with it. Her wand was held tight in her hand and she wondered briefly if it was possible for her to accidentally snap it with the way she was holding it. Her expression bore nothing but disdain for the woman before her, and she was fairly sure her eyes were fiery with vicious anger. She noticed from the corner of her eyes, Brighton lean toward her to say something. She turned half her attention to him, in hopes that he would say something, anything that would calm her enough not to run off half-cocked and without her proper wits to destroy Bellatrix once and for all.

"_There is nothing more dreadful than the habit of doubt. Doubt separates people. It is a poison that disintegrates friendships and breaks up pleasant relations. It is a thorn that irritates and hurts; it is a sword that kills_," Brighton told her, his tone even and wise.

Hermione nodded, "Buddha," she mumbled.

He half smiled, returning to standing straight again. "We have faith in you, just as you have had in us."

Hermione nodded, feeling a little less tense. She was glad for that moment, because Bellatrix sent out her Death Eater's then, expecting to rid the competition, at least to just Hermione. She underestimated Hermione's allies however, because Brighton and Darnell left her sides, wands at the ready, and destroyed the two dark wizards before them as if they were nothing. When two more Death Eater's came from behind her, looking to take the two werewolves off guard, Jacques hurled them from the ground with a quick hex each, and bound them high in the air, while shouting _Expelliarmus_ to take their wands from them. As Bellatrix let out a loud and annoyed bellow, she stomped closer, her wand out and her face curled viciously.

"_The whole secret of existence is to have no fear. Never fear what will become of you, depend on no one. Only the moment you reject all help are you freed_," Brighton told her, before standing behind her and crossing his arms behind his back. "We will not interfere unless you call upon us," he assured, "which I highly doubt you will."

Hermione nodded at the three men as they lined up behind her and moved to meet Bellatrix head on. "I don't suppose you want to do this traditionally," Hermione said, her lip curling with disdain. "I wouldn't want to take the fun out of ruthlessly attacking people for you," she said sarcastically.

Bellatrix laughed, throwing her head back in amusement, her brittle, thin hair falling down to past her waist. She lifted her arm, her gnarled fingers wound tightly around the thin wand, long, dark finger nails standing out in a startling and vicious manner. "How _have_ you been, mudblood? I heard the _mongrel_ was killed recently. What a sad, sad event," she mocked, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Hermione's mouth twitched, the urge to scream and just tackle the woman dumbly ran across her mind. "**_Stupefy_**!" she said instead, hoping to catch the woman off guard with her sudden attack, rather than a witty response. Unfortunately, Bellatrix got out of the way just in time, her expression told Hermione she hadn't expected it though. "What's wrong, Lestrange? Worried a little _mudblood_ might be the one to do you in?" she asked, her eyes thinned as they began circling one another, watching for any sign that the other would strike.

She laughed, rich and throaty. "Do me in? Child, it can't be done. I'm just below the Dark Lord, you couldn't reach my power on your best day." She grinned, her face lit with maniacal glee. "**_Crucio_**!" she exclaimed, her eyes lighting with excitement.

Hermione leapt out of the way before the curse could catch her, the light nearly skimming her arm. She caught herself before she stumbled and angled her wand up carefully. "Arrogance is a fatal flaw, Lestrange," she replied, swinging her wand around and shouting, "**_Sectumsempra_**!"

Bellatrix cried out as her arm tore open in jagged tears from her wrist to her shoulder. Growling, she turned on Hermione, eyes ablaze, and waved her wand at her, yelling a hurling hex that managed to throw Hermione into the wall behind her and then throwing a cutting curse that sliced open Hermione's forearms as she lifted them to shield herself.

Mildly dazed, Hermione picked herself back up and attacked back with a _Furnuculus_ hex. She took a small enjoyment from the cries of the dark woman as she broke out in boils. Before she could react, she shouted, "**_Conjuctivitis_**."

Blinded, Bellatrix roared angrily, waving her wand around, no idea where to aim. She shot off random spells, missing her target but managing to destroy shops and signs around them. Hermione used it to her advantage and shot a stunner, but Bellatrix listened to her voice and jumped out of the way. Using what she heard, Lestrange then shot a _Crucio_ back and Hermione was unable to get out of the way. Pain ripped and tore at her as she collapsed on the ground, gasping for breath and writhing in agony. It lasted a few minutes before Bellatrix let it up and cackled, turning the wand on herself and remembering the counter curse to the _Conjuctivitis_ hex.

Hermione panted for breath, trying to stand but failing. Her limbs burned and her throat felt dry and pained. Bellatrix was getting closer but Hermione couldn't seem to get her wits about her and stand up. Her eyes landed on a spot in the alley, and her mind flashed to the day she was left holding her husband as he died. There was so much blood everywhere, and Bellatrix just laughed in the background, taking joy in the death of the man Hermione loved. Hearing the click clack of Bellatrix's shoes, Hermione's eyes turned back to her, burning with hatred.

"What's wrong, mudblood?" she asked, her tone twisted in fake sympathy. "Is somebody missing her half-breed husband?" she mocked, sneering. "He deserved death, just as you do." She knelt in front of Hermione, grinning darkly. "This will be one of my greatest victories," she told her, sinfully happy. "Your death means I've taken part in the slaying of two out of three of the Golden Trio. Not to mention I killed my dear cousin, Sirius, and his pathetic best friend." Her eyes flashed at Hermione, "With your death, the Wizarding world will be in shambles and the Dark Lord will finally reign like he's destined to. How does it feel? Knowing you've accomplished nothing, and your dear husband died in vain? Just like Potter and Weasley," she spat.

Hermione leaned forward, scowling hatefully, "None of them died in vain," she told her, shaking her head. "Because you will pay for every spilled drop of their blood. **_CRUCIO_**!" she shouted, her eyes flashing dangerously.

Lestrange, caught off guard, fell back and screamed in what sounded like nearly pleasure, her mouth curled in mild enjoyment as she writhed and jerked on the ground. Hermione was mildly confused by the reaction, gathering that the woman's psychological state was even worse than what she had thought. Taking the Unforgivable off of her, Hermione rounded her and was half way through a stunner when Bellatrix kicked her leg out and tripped Hermione onto her back. Rolling away, Lestrange rose up on her legs and shook her head. "Perhaps another time, mudblood," she rasped, before apparating away.

Hermione cursed, taking aim just before she disappeared but missed entirely as the stunner hit nothing but air. Rolling on to her stomach, she shook her head and ground her teeth together, loss and anger rolling through her in waves. She could hear the hollow sounds of feet pounding toward her and knew that Brighton, Jacques, and Darnell were coming for her. She felt hands under stomach and around her arms before she was lifted from the ground. Side-along apparating her back to her house, she stared blearily up at Jacques who walked beside her, looking apprehensive and worried. She could hear the outcry of the other werewolves, asking questions and shouting that they needed answers. "She's gone," she whispered, her voice croaky and angry.

"There will be other fights," Darnell assured, his large hands beneath her shoulders and carrying her easily.

"I don't want other fights," Hermione told him, her teeth grit. "I want her gone now. I want it done _now_!"

"_You will not be punished **for** your anger, you will be punished **by** your anger_," Brighton told her, one of his arms underneath her legs while the other opened the front door. "Buddha has much to say today," he told her, walking backwards into the house.

Hermione sighed, shaking her head. "I'm tired," she told them, her stomach clenching and her body beginning to burn painfully with the aftereffects of the _Cruciatus_ curse.

"You need to be tended to," Darnell told her, as they walked up the stairs to her bedroom.

"I don't want a healer," she said, stubbornly.

"Madame Pomfrey," Jacques said, sounding eager. "You cannot leave zis unattented, _Mère Loup_, you have been hit wiz see _Crucio_, it iz not good for you," he told her, shaking his head, his face pinched with concern.

"It hasn't been the first time," she reminded, shaking her head even as she felt her body tense and fight against the clenching of her muscles and the spasming of her limbs.

"Please, 'ermione, do not let yourzelf be 'armed, it iz not good for you," Jacques pleaded. "Let me go. I will talk to ze Ordaire, I will find Madame Pomfrey and bring 'er 'ere myself. Uh? Say I can, 'ermione!" he asked, his eyes wide and innocent.

Hermione sighed, tired and sore. "Fine. But nobody else, Jacques, please," she told him.

He nodded eagerly, before turning to leave and then coming back. "Do not go to zleep! I, uh, do not want you to fall... how they say... unconscious. I will be back in moments, yes!" he said, turning and rushing off.

"Crazy French boy," Darnell mumbled, dropping her carefully on her bed. He smoothed her hair off her forehead, which was now damp with sweat. "You'll be fine, _copil."_

"I should have stunned her when I had a chance. I shouldn't have kept speaking. Just stunned her, or _Avada_'d her," Hermione exclaimed, shaking her head and gripping the blanket beneath her. She shook her head suddenly, looking down. "No, I'm on the wrong side!" she told them, looking aghast.

"Wrong side?" Brighton asked, looking confused.

"This is Remus' side," she told them, using her shaky arms to try and drag herself to the other side. "He sleeps on this side, I never do. It's... it's his, I can't... I can't..." She sighed, shaking her head and felling tears prick at her eyes.

Brighton shook his head, but reached out, helping lift her across. "Sorry, 'Mione, I didn't realize," he apologized, trying to fluff her pillow behind her head.

"Don't apologize," Darnell told him, gruffly. "Now, 'ermione, you know as well as I do that Remus doesn't use that side of the bed anymore. It's time you came to grips with--"

"Darnell, I don't think this is the time," Brighton interrupted, shaking his head angrily.

"There's never a right time to tell a wife to move on from 'er 'usband, Brighton," Darnell snapped back gruffly. "But we shouldn't coddle 'er. It'll only leave 'er in this state longer."

"And what state is that? Leon Bloy said, 'There are places in the heart that do not yet exist; suffering has to enter for them to come to be.' We cannot stop her from feeling what she is feeling, we can only support her decisions in the task," Brighton responded, his tone even but his eyes dark with annoyance.

"I will not support 'er wallowing. I will not watch 'er wither away to nothing. She is a strong, proud woman and I will not see 'er any other way. Remus would not want it and I will not allow it," Darnell shouted, shaking his head. "If you want to stand by while she falls away into 'er depression then do so, but do not ask me to do the same." He turned to Hermione, his face curled with anger, but not at her. "You 'ave all your life. To live, to love, to destroy Bellatrix for what she's done. But do not let the lives lost be in vain by letting yourself fall deeper into this. You're ruled by 'ate and anger, but Remus loved just the opposite about you. Would 'e want to see you this way?" he asked, staring at her searchingly.

Hermione felt tears coursing down her cheeks and closed her eyes to get away from the worry in Darnell's. She let out a soft sigh, shaking her head in response. Before he could reply, the door opened and Jacques returned with Madame Pomfrey. She bustled inside, all the while mumbling to herself about Jacques getting her worried into a tizzy over far more than what had happened. The men were sent out of the room as the medi-witch bustled around, giving Hermione something to ease the pain and putting her into a dreamless sleep. Part of Hermione longed for the potion, she hated seeing Remus die every time she closed her eyes. However, another part rebelled, wanting the first part of the dream, while she spent a regular day with Remus, as though everything were fine. That part was comforting, even though she knew what was coming.

"There, there, Mrs. Lupin," Madame Pomfrey said softly. "Rest easy, child."

Hermione slipped away, her body relaxing and her mind getting away from her. She didn't wake up until late into the night, which was her custom anyway. Her body ached as she sat up, joints feeling as though they were grating against each other. She turned onto her side, remembering Bellatrix's triumphant face as she apparated away. She was so close, she could've destroyed her. It would all be over then, she wouldn't have anything else left to do. She wondered what she would do when it was all done with. Her and Remus' dreams were all but unattainable now. She had told Darnell that she'd consider returning to the Order, but the idea repulsed her. She wanted nothing to do with it, she wanted to forget all about everything. But she couldn't leave the Wizarding world, that would mean leaving all of it behind. It would mean forgetting Remus and all that they had. She sighed, her shoulders felt heavy with responsibility and worry.

Rising from the bed, she moved to the window, staring out at the moon in the sky. "I'm sorry, Remus," she whispered, her eyes filling. "I'm sorry I didn't stop her. I could have. She was right there. I was too slow and overwhelmed and..." Her breathing picked up, making her chest tighten. "This would all be so easy if you were here," she breathed, shaking her head as the tears fell from her eyes. "I can't sleep... It feels wrong without you. I need you here and I don't... I don't know how to do any of this without you. I... I love you and I miss you and I don't know what to do about that," she whimpered, shaking.

Wrapping her arms around her, she tried to reign in the tears and sobs that pleaded to get out. Sniffling, she walked to the chair in the corner, picking up his robe and encasing herself in it. She lifted the lapel, bringing it up to her face to inhale the welcoming scent of him. Leaving the room, she made her way downstairs, instead of going for tea, however, she made her way to the study. Perhaps a little light reading could wind her down. Entering the room, she felt an instant relaxation overcome her. Over the years, her and Remus had created there own small library. There was a book on virtually every subject inside, alphabetically organized of course. Stepping to the nearest bookcase, her eyes roamed the spines, reading the titles and mentally rereading all that she already gathered from each of them. Her hands reached out, walking across the books as she moved along. She came to a stop in front of a book she'd never noticed before and wondered if perhaps it was one of the new ones Remus had bought just before their last trip to Diagon Alley.

"_Time: The Interwoven Delicacy Unwoven_," she read, her brow furrowing. Pulling it from the shelf, she sat down in a chair and opened it to the beginning, only to become quickly entranced. Inside, she read all about time traveling, though she thought she knew all there was to know. With each page, her hope was rejuvenated. A constant question came to her with each word, "What if...?" Hours later, in the early morning, with the rays slipping through the curtains, Hermione came to a startling and huge conclusion. If she went back in time, she could change it all. Save the Potter's, which would give Harry a real chance at life. Stop the war before it affected the Weasley's too much, which would in turn save so many. Destroy Voldemort before he could even make a Boy-Who-Lived. She could even save the Longbottom's, giving Neville back his parents. It all seemed like such a beautiful dream. A world without Voldemort, without the loss of all who mattered to her.

The book was very direct however, if she went back, she could never return to her time. It would still be there, at least until she did something drastic enough to change it irrevocably. While small changes would cause a ripple effect to this world, it wouldn't destroy it entirely. She would have to do something big before this 2003 would be nothing but a dark and dreadful memory. And she'd have to be careful about what she did and how she did it. She couldn't exactly go back over twenty years and tell everybody who would listen that she knew the future. However, she couldn't hide it from everyone. She'd have to tell someone, at least Dumbledore. But what about Remus, he wouldn't be _her_ Remus, really. She would be giving up _her_ Remus, because he'd never really grow up to be the one she had loved so dearly. Could she do that? It would give him a better life, even if he wasn't with her. He would have his best friends. That loss had hurt him so much over the years. She could give them back to him. Was she willing to?

She'd have to be careful and she couldn't just up and disappear, not with the clans around her constantly. And what about Darnell, Jacques, and Brighton? Maybe... Perhaps... She could tell them! Yes, if anything went wrong, at least they would know. She could trust them and it's quite possible that she might even meet two of them in the past. Certainly Darnell and Brighton would be alive. Why, Brighton would be the same age as Remus, of course. And Darnell, he'd be in his early forties. Jacques though, he wouldn't be born for another few years. But she would meet him eventually. The werewolf training would just have to start earlier than it did. Twenty six years earlier. She'd go back to the beginning of Remus' seventh year, that way she could get closer to Dumbledore and the Marauders. Maybe there's a position open as a professor...

Closing the book, she sighed, she had made her decision. Now, it was only a matter of explaining it to the three men who swore to keep her safe and alive. By this time tomorrow, she hoped to be standing in a world twenty six years younger, where Voldemort hadn't yet destroyed all hope. Where the world still had a chance and people could walk down the streets without fear of another attack taking the lives of those they love. Where Remus was alive and well. And young, she thought, so very, very young. Why, he wouldn't have any idea of what he had with her in the future, and he never would. She couldn't tell him, that would only cause a sense of responsibility. No, she had to let him live his new life, while she did all in her power to create it for him. There was much to do, she couldn't go empty handed and she certainly couldn't wait much longer to do the complicated spell.

So much to do, and so little time to do it, she thought wryly.

**TBC**

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**A/N**_ Long, I know! Phew... lol. I hope you're enjoying this. The next chapter involves her finally going, so it's not that far off. I just needed to give you an understanding of her and what's been happening in her time. Also, Remus' dying is very important, so I thought you should all have a view on how it went. I cried like a baby writing it, and it gets me every time I read it since. I'd like to know what you all thought of that part especially!_

_Translations (as found on another site, so if they're not true, my deepest apologies:  
**copil** baby, child, cub  
**pui de lup**: wolf pup, wolf cub, wolf baby_

_Please review, this is my first try and a TimeTravel fic, and I'd really like to know what you all think. Thanks for reading!_

_Much Love,  
-**Amanda**_


	3. Two

**Review offering insight to the story**:

"_Oh my gosh, the scene with Remus dying is so sad! I don't know how you even wrote that! Very good writing, it was written excellent. I cannot wait until she goes back to the past! So many questions yet to be answered... will she allow herself to befriend Remus (& the other mauraders) or will her heartache and love for him be to hard for her. Will she tell them the truth about her? Cannot wait, I love this story_!" - **_MoonNightLover_** of FanFiction net.

**Thank you to the following reviewers**: x-Lazart-x, LadyOfTheTwilight, Hotkat144, DeltaGamma Liv, Blair21, Viktor Krum's lazyllama101, **Black-Rose23, ****MoonNightLover, bethygirl94 **and _especially_** _galloping-goose_ **_(Zeus)_

_**The Werewolf Tamer**  
Two_

Hermione had devised a whole speech to give the three werewolves residing in her house. She had to explain her decision to them, not only because they deserved to know, but because she wanted their support. She would be destroying their world, and them in their current forms. And she'd be leaving them, which they wouldn't agree with, no matter what her excuse was. It scared her really. They were the last three people she could truly rely on anymore. She'd be leaving that safety behind to go to a world where nobody knew her at all. Where she would likely be considered quite insane until she was able to prove herself. Sighing, she shook her head, trying to rid it of doubts. She wanted to stay positive, even if she was doing something catastrophically dangerous.

She reread the book just to be sure she was absolutely right about everything she was taking from it. Her mind rebelled against the idea, telling her it was foolish and would only end worse than it started, while her heart yearned for it. The beauty of a new world sounded so wonderful that it felt dream like. Her mind was set and couldn't be turned around, she was going to do whatever it took to recreate a better future for all those that mattered to her. Picking the book up for what felt like the hundredth time that morning, Hermione left the study and made her way to the kitchen, where she could hear the men bustling around. They were the only three who came inside unless there was danger or Hermione insisted the others join her for company, or often dinner. If they were going to spend all of their free time guarding her, the least she could do was feed them.

Jacques' boisterous laughter echoed through the house and Hermione noted that she would miss the spunky young man. She would meet him one day though, for he would surely join the werewolf project when he was turned. It struck her that she could stop his transformation if he so liked, and she decided to ask him if it was what he wanted. While there were breakthroughs happening through her for werewolf clans, it would be easier not to be one at all. Part of her rebelled against the idea, thinking it was taking away a part of Jacques, but it was his decision to make, not hers.

Entering the kitchen, she was immediately bombarded by the worried French werewolf. "'Ermione, what are you doing awake? You 'ave suffered greatly, you should be sleeping away zee afternoon," he exclaimed, looking aghast as she shook her head and continued on her way to the large table. "At least let me take zat book from you, it looks far too 'eavy and you should be resting."

"It's fine, Jacques," she assured, placing it on the table and crossing her legs as she leaned back in a chair. "Good morning Darnell, Brighton," she greeted the two others. The older man gave her a curt nod while he sipped his tea and stared out the window with a pensive expression, watching the werewolves walk the perimeter. Brighton smiled at her from behind the Daily Prophet in his hands, tipping his cranberry biscuit at her in greeting.

"Are you 'ungry? Zursty? I can make you somezing to eat," Jacques offered, nearly bouncing on the tips of his toes anxiously.

"A cup of tea would be nice," she replied, giving him a small smile in thanks.

"You're in a fine mood," Darnell noted, turning to look at her speculatively. "What's caused it?" he wondered suspiciously.

Hermione sighed, always to the point Darnell was. "Recently, I've made a very life altering decision," she told him, her tone telling of how very important what she had realized was.

Brighton folded his newspaper, placing it on the table and turning his attention to her fully. His brow was furrowed with question, though he kept his silence.

Darnell frowned, folding his large hands on the table and leaning forward to hear her news. "How life altering?" he asked, his brow lifting with mild concern.

"Completely. It will turn everything I know upside down," she told him, her voice soft and thoughtful. Hermione gathered her thoughts and calmed herself down. It wasn't as if they could change her mind, she just wanted to be sure she said it all the way it should be explained. She couldn't stand it if they looked at her like she was truly and utterly nutters. This could logically work, she reminded herself. The research she did, the work she'd done to check sources and recheck the validity of what the author had said, it was all right. She could reverse time. Jacques came over to sit beside her, placing the steaming cup of tea in front of her and frowning with concern.

"Well, what 'ave you decided?" Darnell asked gruffly.

Hermione sighed, gathering her courage and lifting her eyes to look at each of them. "I'm going to change the past," she stated in a clear, no nonsense tone.

"What?" Darnell asked, his brow furrowing and his mouth curling into a scowl.

Hermione shook her head, wondering if they could really understand. "I've found a book, one that's completely reliable. Inside it offers the means to go back in time. It speaks of a possibility for a whole new world, Darnell," she told him, her voice laced with hope. She lifted her hands to halt their first response, wanting to explain it more, to explain herself. "I could really do it. I could save him and so many others. All it would take is a complicated charm, one I've nearly memorized. The books says that I can return to a certain time, but I won't ever be able to return. While there, this world would still exist, at least until I change something so drastic that this world couldn't possibly be what it is. Then it'll change and it will morph into what I make of it," she told them, admitting to herself that it sounded a little far-fetched.

She looked from each skeptical expression on their faces and felt rather deflated, but wouldn't allow them to dash her dream. "I know what you're thinking. 'She's finally lost it!' But I haven't." Opening the book in front of her, she angled it up so they could read the writing she was pointing to. "_Time is more than a little tricky. Every move made in the past has to be carefully calculated. Only a person with a sharp mind and a vast understanding of the past, can truly think to change it. For if somebody with limited knowledge and reckless behavior returns, they could damage the world even more so than what it already is. Each word spoken makes a difference, each action made changes something. However, if the person returning has taken the time to examine the past thoroughly, then they could properly change it and truly create a world of possibilities. Time is not to be taken lightly though, dear reader, for in your palm you hold the lives of everyone around you, stranger and familiar_," Hermione quoted, not having to see the words to know exactly what they said.

Brighton looked worried, and promptly said, "In the words of Harvey MacKay, '_Time is free, but it's priceless. You can't own it, but you can use it. You can't keep it, but you can spend it. Once you've lost it, you can** never** get it back_.'"

Hermione sighed, staring at him with a message of disappointment. "And Stacey Charter said, '_Life is all about timing... the unreachable becomes reachable, the unavailable becomes available, the unattainable... attainable. Have the patience, wait it out. It's all about timing_.'" Closing the large tome in front of her, she laid it gently back down on the table, as if mishandling it would cause her dreams to collapse. "I realize that I sound as though I'm reaching, but imagine it with me, for just one moment," she asked them, staring hopefully at each of them.

"But _Mère Loup_, we would never see you again," Jacques said, his tone telling of how hard that was for him to accept. "I know zat you 'ave been 'urting, but... what about zee rest of us. What will we do wizout you?" he wondered, his eyes wide and rather innocent.

"Oh Jacques, you'll be fine for the time being. I hope... I hope to change things quickly. You won't even know it's happening. I... I can change things for the better. You understand, don't you? I mean... I could even stop you from being changed, if you really wanted it," she offered, though she didn't sound happy by the idea. She tried to smile in encouragement, but it ended up a frown.

"But I do not want to stop zat... it would be giving up a part of me zat... well, zat brought me to you and _Père Loup_," he told her, referring to Remus. "Zis is my family now, I do not wish to give it up. I don't understand why you want to, I thought... I thought zat you wanted this too. I thought that you wanted freedom for our kind," he said, his face curling with hurt. "Why must you change zis? Time 'as made us what and who we are, what is wrong with zat?" he asked, his voice shaking, be it with hurt or anger, she wasn't sure.

"Nothing, Jacques," Hermione told him honestly, shaking her head slowly. "Honestly, I don't want you to give up being a werewolf. I don't believe it's a curse, but a part of you. I just... I wasn't sure if _you_ wanted it. I'm not one myself, so I can't make an assumption as to how _you_ feel about it," she tried to explain. Exhaling heavily, she smiled at him softly. "And I don't _want_ to leave you, exactly. It's not really a matter of leaving, so much as creating something better for all involved. I know you must be thinking that this is just because of Remus' death, and I'll admit that losing him is a big reason as to why I want to change all of this. But... I could do so much good," she said, turning back to face Darnell and Brighton too. "Think of the world I could create. I could stop Voldemort before he ever made Harry or Neville the Boy-Who-Lived. I could save hundreds, possibly thousands, of lives."

"At what price?" Darnell barked finally, his expression a dark snarl. "You leave this world, 'ermione, and you leave all of us behind. You walk away from the werewolf packs who vow to keep you safe. You think this is easy for us, coming from all over the world to join in your dream of a real future? And now you decide that what you 'ave done isn't enough and you'll just walk away? You'll just disappear into the past to change all that we know?" He slammed his fist down onto the table loudly, leaning closer as he shouted, "We 'ave given all of ourselves to you. We lay down our livelihoods to support you. This perfect world you 'ope for, it's not reachable, not then and not now. You cannot save the world, nobody can. But you can make the best of the one we 'ave. It is lacking, I know. There is no Remus, no 'Arry or Ron, but you 'ave us. Why are we not enough for you?"

She stared at him, feeling the sting of his words and hating that at the tip of her tongue were the words, "_You're not Remus, and he's the only one who understands_..." She didn't say it though, thankfully, because she didn't want to hurt them. They truly had put everything in her and she hated that she was leaving them this way.

"_Copil_," he sighed, his anger dissipating, "You dream foolish and too big. "

"No, Darnell," she said, shaking her head. "I'm leaving you _now_, but I can help you _then_. I'll find you, I will. I'm not giving up on the project, I'm just starting it earlier than expected. You'll be twenty six years younger, and you'll be the first werewolf I contact, I swear it."

"And how will you find me?" he asked, nearly smiling but instead frowning with uncertainty.

"Well, you'll tell me where you were then, of course," she told him, staring at him directly. "And if you don't, I'll find you," she assured.

Shaking his head, he leaned back in his chair.

Brighton rubbed at his jaw, "I'll be nearly eighteen by then," he told her, staring at her with question.

"Where were you back in late August of 1976?" she asked him, feeling as though they were beginning to come around.

"Traveling Scotland with a small pack," he told her, clearing his throat. "Those were my more unruly days," he warned, frowning.

"Before you started quoting people all the time?" Darnell asked, gruffly.

Brighton frowned at him, "I quote only what needs to be said in times that are in need of wisdom."

"Then there are far too many of those times," he replied, lifting his brow at the younger man.

"I'd rather pass on some form of encouragement or understanding than bluntly tell a person what I believe is right or wrong," Brighton responded defensively.

"I won't even be born," Jacques said, interrupting the small row. He stared at Hermione mournfully, "And I will be much younger when I finally meet you. I wasn't bitten until I was nearly eleven years old, you understand. My parents, zey didn't want to have anyzing to do wiz me. I was forced out of my home and told to fend for myself. I lived on zee streets for the first few years, until I was picked up by a pack passing through. Zey offered me protection until zey made it to a 'olding in Romania, where zey told me I'd 'ave to fend for myself after zat." He shook his head, "It was difficult to do much of anyzing. Food was scarce, work even more so. I 'ad no one and nussing until I came 'ere and met you."

Hermione felt her heart clench and wanted very dearly to reach out and hug him, but knew he would back away if he realized he was showing so much weakness. "I'll find you before you have to go through that, Jacques. I'll come to France for you right after your transformation, I promise you. All I need is your address and the date, and I'll come for you immediately," she assured.

He brightened, his eyes turning off as if trying to think of what the world would be like if she came for him early on. A smile bloomed on his face and Hermione was encouraged once more with her plan.

She turned back to Darnell and Brighton, trying to read their eyes for their reactions. "I'm going to do this, no matter how you feel, but I would like your support in this," she told them, her expression open and hopeful.

There was a long, pregnant silence, before finally it was broken. "What does this spell involve?" Brighton asked, frowning.

Hermione explained to him how it would all go, "I must create a circle around me of items consisting of the four elements: fire, earth, water and sky. Inside this circle I can bring along anything I plan to take with me, except for anything human. Animals may accompany me, but the fewer the better. There's a potion I need to make which I have nearly all the ingredients for already. After I drink it, I have to chant a long spell, which is all written in Latin, but I've deciphered nearly all of it. When the spell is finished, I should then be transported back into time to wherever it is desire most to be. This world will continue on until I've changed it." She stared at them, waiting for a response.

"And how long does it take to prepare for?" Darnell wondered, his tone heavy with defeat.

"I can do it tonight," she told them, triumphantly. "All I need is a few ingredients from Diagon Alley, which I'll have no trouble finding, and--"

"Jacques will go for the potions ingredients," he interrupted, his expression showing that he was unmoving on the subject.

She gave a short nod, "And then I'll begin preparing the study for my departure. I'll need to gather my things, though I have to be careful what I take. I can't be too obvious in my being from the future or it will cause problems," she said, frowning. "There are some things though," she said, quietly, "that I just can't bear to leave behind." She rose suddenly, rushing over to a cupboard and looking around through it before pulling out a Wizarding camera. She came back to them, a small smile on her face. "Come on, you three. I want a picture of you to remember you all just as you are, right now."

Darnell shook his head, looking exasperated by her nostalgia. Jacques nearly hopped out of his chair, ready for his close up, while Brighton shifted awhile and finally resigned himself to the photo that would be taken whether he liked it or not. Sighing heavily, Darnell gave in and rose to stand between the two other werewolves. "Well don't leave us standing here alone, _copil_, you have to get in here too," he told her, roughly.

Hermione set the camera to hover and moved to stand in front of the werewolves. Darnell stood behind her, his hands lying heavy on her shoulders and his height making him a full head taller than her. Brighton stood on her left, and Hermione reached out to take his hand, bringing him closer as he was currently trying to lean away from the picture. Jacques, just the opposite, leaned in closer, already grinning from ear to ear. He picked up Hermione's hand and held it tight against his chest, as though worried she'd disappear while he wasn't looking. Hermione smiled softly, finding it rather funny that the only photo of them would be with their hair in a messy mass atop their heads from sleep and her swathed in a man's flannel house coat that dragged on the floor and covered her feet. The smiles around her varied, from Jacques's huge grin, Brighton's soft spoken smile, and Darnell's half-smile, half-frown. Three sets of amber eyes would flash as the camera did and the photo would show a devotion and comradery that Hermione would sorely miss.

Darnell squeezed her shoulders before stepping away and taking his seat again. He ordered Jacques to Diagon Alley to pick up the ingredients needed and the helpful werewolf nearly left before finding out what it was Hermione needed. After casting a spell on the camera to give her the new photo, she found a picture frame in one of the hall closets and admired it a moment. Inhaling heavily, she excused herself from the two werewolves company. They were both sitting quietly, frowns of disappointment on their faces, but they nodded for her to take her leave. With a heavy heart, Hermione then began searching the house for what objects she wanted to take with her.

She went to her and Remus' bedroom first, knowing that her most prized possessions would be there. She would need clothes and robes, she knew, and so she took the trunk out of the closet and sat down in front of it. On top, in curled gold writing, it read, "The Lupins." She considered charming it to say something else, but decided that nobody would likely see it and she could hide it away wherever she ended up living. She ran her hand over the title before opening the trunk and slipping her hand inside to pull out whatever might still be residing in the bottomless pit. Finding nothing but a chewed up pair of shoes that she had no explanation for and a moth eaten sweater she hadn't seen in five years, she clapped her hands of the dust that marred them and cast a _Scourgify_ charm to clean the trunk.

Looking through the wardrobe, she searched for her favorite robes. Taking out only those in black and navy blue, she folded them and placed them inside the trunk before moving back to look at Remus' robes. They were much longer than hers, but the idea of having a wardrobe without his robes hanging next to hers seemed abnormal. Taking a few of his out, she put them too in the trunk. Gathering her clothes from the drawers, only those she was sure she'd wear, she folded them up and dropped them inside the endless trunk. She found her wedding dress in the closet, magically charmed never to tear, tarnish, or wear out. It was still as gleaming white as it had been on her wedding day, and it felt just as new as her hand danced over the lace and silk gown. She didn't want to leave it, and she wondered how crazy she would seem with a wedding dress hanging in her closet in the time she was going to. Deciding that nobody would ever know, she pulled it out and put it away to take with her.

Kneeling down beside the long dresser she and Remus shared, she pressed her wand against the middle drawer, chanting, "_rainy day_," under her breath. A popping sound could be heard before the door disappeared to reveal the charmed safe inside, which opened to the sound of her voice repeating the same two words. Inside was a small fortune, one her and Remus had been saving together since before they were married. Most of their money was left in Gringott's bank, but she knew that Darnell wouldn't allow her to leave the house. The money sitting in front of her would surely keep her comfortable however, and she had no doubts about that. She could easily live off of what sat in front of her, and splendidly at that. Her and Remus had never lived a lavish life, they were far more comfortable with something more regular. Sirius' death over eight years past, left Remus with a good fortune that would have kept his grandchildren well cared for. And with Harry and Ron's deaths, Hermione had inherited a startling sum herself. Most of their funds went into running the Lupin Werewolf Project, but they also bought their house and paid for the Order's hidden prison. Not to mention, regularly donating money to St. Mungo's for the victims of the war. Sighing, Hermione opened the small purple sack that sat beside the fortune and gathered the galleons, sickles, and knuts into the endless bag before putting it inside the trunk with everything else.

Walking around the room, Hermione slowly sat down on Remus' side of the bed. It felt awkward and wrong to occupy a space that had previously been all his, but she did her best not to pay attention to it. The picture sitting on the end table was sitting face down, and with a shaky hand she lifted it up. Inside stood her and Remus, four years younger and dressed for their wedding. The sun had fallen to twilight, where the dusky orange rays sent everything into a calming beauty. The wedding had taken place behind the Weasley Burrow, and the picture had been taken while they stood off to the side, beneath a tree. Remus' arms were wrapped around her waist as he stood behind her, his head bowed to lean against hers. Soft smiles adorned their faces as they swayed side to side to the music in the background, that couldn't be conveyed in the photo. Every once in a while, he'd turn his head and whisper three words against her face before kissing her cheek. "_I love you_." The light would always glint off of their wedding bands, and Hermione watched them wink out at her as the happy couple were oblivious to anything but each other.

Hermione's throat tightened and her shaking hand lifted to her neck, where the long necklace hung, Remus' wedding band hanging from it, against her heart. She closed her eyes as they filled with tears and hugged the picture against herself. That day had been, without a day, the most incredible in all her life. She felt herself shudder, her shoulders shaking violently as she tried to keep her cries of despair inside. She pressed a curled fist against her face, wanting to reign it all in and get on with her mission of gathering things that matter. Forcing herself off the bed, she put the wedding portrait in her trunk and then continued on to find what else she should take. She wouldn't let her emotions take her, not now, not until she was better able to handle them. They were too overwhelming and she just couldn't face it yet. Her tears never seemed to stop and the ache in her heart was painful and hollow, always.

Hermione stared at the bed awhile, tapping her chin before she decided she wanted the linens to come with her. Her and Remus had spent hours going over what blanket they wanted for their bed. He kept telling her that duvets were heavy but warm, while she continued to tell him that regular blankets would do the same job. Then they squabbled over colours, because she wanted a flower pattern while he thought it was too feminine. Finally, they came to an agreement over their beige and white duvet, which was thinner than most, but heavy enough to keep them comfortably warm all through the night. Many a time, Hermione found herself wrapped tight in the duvet, the cold winter atmosphere giving her reason to stay in bed all morning. Her and Remus would stay toasty warm beneath the covers, relishing in the lazy mornings and using the massive bed to their advantage.

Dragging the duvet off the bed, she folded it up and grabbed Remus' pillow from the bed before walking to the trunk and putting them inside. Changing out of her pajamas, she added Remus' robe and took off her favorite pair of slippers to add them to the growing pile of things she couldn't part with. Pulling on one of Remus' favorite sweaters, Hermione made her way out of the room, using a charm to hover the trunk to follow her out. She stopped on the stairs, inhaling shakily before she turned to stare at the backwards photos. With a quaking hand she slowly reached out to turn over certain pictures lining the walls. She decided to bring a photo of her, Ron, and Harry, which had been taken shortly before Harry's death. They had their arms around each other and were all grinning widely at the camera. They looked sweet and innocent, strong and confident, equal and bonded. Swallowing painfully, she took down a picture of Harry and Susan from their wedding, and Ron, Luna, and Brooke, from shortly after the baby was born. Also, she took down a photo of the entire Weasley clan from just before Harry's death, even Percy was there. And lastly, she lifted from the wall a large picture of her and Remus standing with the first few clans in the early days of their project, and placed them all inside the trunk.

Continuing on her way downstairs, Hermione then turned to go to the Study. There, she gathered all the information she had on the past she was about to change and charmed it not to tear or age in anyway. Going through her desk, she pulled out all the files she had on the Lupin Werewolf Project and placed them in the trunk too. Standing up, she made her way across the walls of books and felt a tug of remorse at having to leave her beloved home library. She could only take the most vital of books, seeing as how the more recent ones would cause suspicion. Taking some of her favorites, including, "**_Hogwarts: A History_**," and "**_Werewolves: The Untold Story, Told By A Werewolf_**," she stacked them together with various books on DADA, charms, transfiguration, and potions. She stopped when she came upon a photo album and slipped the dusty memory off its shelf. Pictures had been added over the years, but it hadn't been touched since shortly before Ron's death. It followed the years from 1997 to early 2003 and Hermione couldn't even consider opening it. Instead, she put it away with everything else she was taking, saving it for the day she would be able to face it.

Hermione walked through the house leisurely, picking up odd items that had deep sentimental value as she went. By the time night fell upon her, she had a trunk full of her life waiting to be taken with her. Jacques had returned long before and she set to work on the potion after she was sure she had found everything she needed. Hedwig sat perched on the windowsill of the Study as she worked, occasionally hooting, but more often just watching her. After Harry died, the loyal owl had stayed with Ron and Hermione, going back and forth and simply staying with them for awhile, as if passing on comfort in its attention. When Ron passed, she stayed with Hermione permanently, gaining a place at the Lupin house. Hermione had already decided to bring her, but she had awkwardly asked just to be sure, and received a generous hoot of appreciation in return.

When night fell, Hermione invited the three quiet werewolves into the Study. She had already created the circle of elements, dirt made the round shape, with water soaking the hardwood floor around it. She used her wand to create a ring of fire and a small conjured wind made the flames lick dangerously at the area. She had already cast a fire repellent to the room however, so she wasn't worried. With her trunk in front of her, Hermione held the potion up in her tight grasp, trying to look encouraging at the werewolves in front of her. "Remember that I care for all of you very much and I only want a better future for you," she told them, her voice shaking. "I will do all that is in my power to give you all _better_ lives," she promised, looking from face to face slowly. Tears rose up in her eyes and she felt a moment of sorrow grip her. "I'm sorry I'm leaving you," she apologized, shaking her head. "You must all think I'm very weak, stealing away into the night and disappearing into the past, rather than facing the future."

Darnell sighed, stepping forward and ignoring the way the flames spat and hissed at him. "You are not weak, you're the strongest woman I know. I don't agree with you changing things, but I'm willing to let you do what you think is best. If we do not meet again, though I'm sure you'll search for me, then know 'ermione, that you were like my very own daughter and I couldn't be more proud of you, if you were my own in blood. You 'ave given an old man 'ope, and I can never repay you for that," he told her, reaching out and squeezing her shoulder. He gave her a tight, sad smile and then stepped back. "Take care of yourself, my little _copil_, and keep your eyes on the moon, for that is where you will find your peace."

Choked up, Hermione nodded, tears falling down her cheeks. "I'm going to miss you, Darnell," she whispered.

"Do not add me to your list of people to grieve over, _pui de lup_," he warned, his expression serious. "I'm not gone, 'ermione, simply waiting to be found. And you know, that no matter the year, I will protect you with my life."

She nodded, sniffling. Brighton caught her attention then as he stepped forward, his eyes downcast. "I don't like this. I believe time is something not to be tampered with. Things happen for a reason, though we are never truly sure until it is shown to us. Everything that has happened, it has done some good, 'Mione, remember that. While the path was paved with various pieces of glass that caught our bare feet unawares, it was the end that brought us our reward, and that was those we met along the way. Some were lost, some turned a corner along the path, but those who stood beside you at the end, they are who your journey was meant to inspire."

He sighed, reaching out and taking her hands, "I had a sister once. When I was turned, she wasn't so lucky. My maker only wanted male offspring, and so he killed her without a second thought. You remind me of her sometimes. She was very brave and outspoken, quite beautiful and incredibly smart." He smiled, though it was so sad it looked like more of a frown. "This journey you're about to take, you take for others. But remember, Mione, that, '_You yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe, deserve your love and affection_.' Allow yourself some peace and do not give all of yourself for those around you, for to sacrifice yourself would be the worst mistake you could make."

Hermione pondered his words, feeling rather confused but mostly contrite. He always said something to reassure her or provide some kind of hope for the future. While he could never instill the comfort Remus had, he managed to keep her going for a little while longer. She would miss his good timing for wise quotes and quick understanding of the world surrounding them. "I will find you, Brighton," she vowed, staring up at him. "Rowdy days or not, I'm going to find you and I will make sure that your life too is changed for the better."

"I have no doubt you will," he said, smiling lightly at her and stepping back.

Jacques was bouncing back and forth on his feet, wringing his hands and looking quite remorseful over what was happening. His eyes seemed to be shimmering, but he was blinking so much that Hermione wasn't quite sure. He wouldn't look straight at her, instead turning his gaze to anything but the witch waiting to say goodbye. Finally, he simply launched himself at her, holding her in a tight hug, as though he were a small child, scared of losing his mother in a crowd. "You 'ave the address, yes?" he asked, worried.

"I have it, and I'll come for you," she assured, rubbing his back like he was her very own son she was soothing.

"Be careful, _Mère Loup_, zee world is treacherous, no matter zee year." He squeezed her tight, sniffling against her shoulder. "I will wait for you, I know I will. When zee moon is full and bright, I will know that you are soon to come for me. Remember, 'ermione, that us werewolves saw you and Remus as the most trustworthy leaders we'd ever known. Give us 'ope, and we will bow to you again. 'Ave faith in yourzelf and all will be good, no?"

She nodded, detangling herself from him and stepping back near her trunk. "If I stay much longer, I'm afraid I may be tempted not to leave," she said softly. Wiping her tears, she looked over each of them. "Take care of yourselves and... and if something should happen and the world does not change for you..." She sighed, shaking her head, "Then know that you have the power to be free men. There are copies of my research in my desk. Give them to someone you trust and continue my research, for you deserve that world, even if I cannot give it to you," she told them, her chin high. "Until we meet again," she bid farewell, before turning around and drinking the potion quickly. The taste was foul and cold against her tongue, and she felt her mouth purse against the putrid flavor. Lifting her wand, her eyes closed as she began chanting the long spell that would take her from 2003 to 1976. She could hear the wind and flicking fire around her, and she was sure that she felt water and dirt against her feet. Hedwig gave a hoot as she sat on the top of the trunk, fluttering her wings at the commotion around her.

Suddenly there was a tugging at Hermione's temples, but she ignored it to finish chanting the spell. Another tug nearly made her fall over, but still she continued, determined to do what she set out to. As the last word exited her mouth, the flames rose up in the air and time seemed to slow down. Dirt particles and drops of water mixed with the flickering flames and gently moving wind. Another tug could be felt against her temples and her eyes fell shut tightly as her body felt as though it were being pulled through a very tight space. She clenched her jaw, her eyes scrunched closed and her hands curled in fists. As quickly as it had begun, the feeling stopped and she suddenly felt a soft breeze against her skin. Relaxing slightly, she was worried to open her eyes. The night air told her she was not inside her house and the soft rustle of noise around her told her she wasn't in a public place or even the school.

Very slowly, she let her eyes open, only to be confronted by the sniffing, angered form of a werewolf. She would have laughed had it not been such a shock. She looked around, trying to get her boundaries and wondering briefly if maybe she had apparated. It wasn't a full moon in her time though, she reminded herself, and she truly wondered if the spell had worked. When the werewolf in front of her dug his leg back in a familiar movement, Hermione felt a watery smile break out over her face. If she turned ninety degrees, she would likely see the Shrieking shack, because in front of her, was no other than Remus Lupin, aged seventeen. Though she couldn't really tell that seeing as he was in full out werewolf form, vicious and snarling at her. She heard hooves and padded feet coming closer and knew that the three other Marauders had noticed something was off. There was a shout of warning, telling her to back up slowly, while another voice told her to just run. She knew then that James Potter and Sirius Black had come out of their animagus forms to get her away from Remus.

She smiled then, recognizing the tight bond of friendship between the four people. Instead of heeding their warning though, she quickly remembered her work as a werewolf trainer. She had been studying werewolves for five years, and she knew Remus better than any other. Pushing away her fear at the knowledge that this Remus was much younger than the one she knew, she paid attention to what he was doing. The way he was shaking his head to one side and tipping it meant that he was battling against the wolf's hunger for her blood. And the way his right leg kept backing up and pawing at the dirt below told her that he was anxious and spunky that night, interested in going for a long run, rolling around in the brush and playing in the water. He had been in a playful mood, but the scent of human was confusing him.

Sighing, she lifted her hands, placing them on her hips and made a growling, gurgling noise from the back of her throat. It caught his attention almost instantly and his head stopped turning to one side. He suddenly stepped toward her, turning his head down to look at her face. Instead of turning away from him in fear, Hermione stared him straight on and made a motion with her leg, dragging it backward and kicking down at the ground. He snorted at her, sounding almost amused, before he shook his head and made a growling noise. Hermione glared at him, clicking her tongue before she shook her head at him and curled her fist, dragging it across her chest, from the top of her shoulder down to the side of her waist. Remus backed up, making a wheezing noise of annoyance. Hermione smiled, realizing that even the young Remus recognized when she told him she was his protector. Though it confused him, he accepted it at face value and backed down.

Hermione nodded before bending low and making a motion upward to the moon with her arms, howling from the back of her throat, paying homage to the source of his curse. Remus began hopping up and down on his hind legs, looking excited and playful once more. He howled along with her, before making a circle around her and sniffing her hair. She smiled lightly at the act, knowing it was an offer of familiarity. Her husband had done that the first time she had put him under only a half portion of Wolfsbane. She felt a wave of sadness slip over her and immediately wished she could've put it off as the werewolf before her made a mournful noise, able to sense her feelings. She reached out and ran her hand down his neck in gratitude and hoped he wouldn't look to make her feel better. Werewolves, she found, were far too rough when they were trying to cheer someone up. He leaned into her touch, his back leg tapping in the air as it lifted, while he made a low growl of appreciation for her action.

She heard the clearing of a throat and turned to see two very shocked boys standing before her, staring slack jawed as she tamed the werewolf they had known for years. She gave them a soft, understanding smile before scratching Remus' ears and charming her trunk to follow her as she began to leave. Remus made a disappointed noise and she turned back to motion with her hand that she would see him on the next moon. He hopped around and then waved his long arm in the air in acceptance before becoming distracted by something moving in the trees and hurrying off to attack it.

"Wait," one of the boys called out, turning on her suspiciously. "Who are you and how in the bloody hell did you do that?" he asked.

Hermione recognized him easily. Sirius Black. While he wasn't as gaunt or haunted as the man she had known in her time, he had short black hair, that only accompanied him when he was happy in life, and familiar, piercing grey eyes. Plus, he was blunt and good looking, which Hermione knew to be traits of the young Sirius. "I go by many titles," she replied vaguely, remembering how she was "_copil"_ to Darnell, "'Mione" to Brighton, "_Mère Loup"_ to Jacques and various other werewolves, and most appreciatively "Hermione Lupin" to most. "You may call me Hermione," she offered, before turning away and trying to continue on her way.

"Wait," he exclaimed and she could hear the moment he drew his wand. She also overheard a quiet row happening between Sirius and James, but decided to wait for the final decision. "I'm sorry, but we can't allow you to remember this. There's too much at stake," Sirius told her, sounding mildly contrite.

Hermione turned to him, "I understand, really I do," she told him, taking a step forward. "But I'm afraid my memory is very vital and I can't allow you to tamper with it," she said, her expression determined. "I can assure you that what happened tonight is strictly between us. I have no reason to turn R-," she cleared her throat, "any of you in and really don't care to." She had to be careful with her words, she had nearly said she had no reason to turn _Remus_ in, which would surely cause suspicion, as she wasn't supposed to know who they were. Turning back around, she tried for a second time to leave, but Sirius just wasn't the trusting type.

"I'm afraid your word isn't enough," he told her.

Before he could utter a spell, Remus was standing in front of her, growling darkly at Sirius in warning. "I suggest you step back and bow your head," Hermione told him, stepping to the side so she could be seen around the massive werewolf form. "He doesn't appreciate your attacking me," she told him, sighing slightly.

Sirius glared at her, hesitating but stepping backwards and bowing his head, looking up through his long hair to stare at his best friend worriedly.

James turned to her, his expression quizzical. He looked so much like Harry that Hermione felt another wave of sadness consume her. Part of her wanted to hug him, if only to see if he felt anything like his son. Harry, after marrying Susan, became much more comfortable with hugging. Often catching her in a bone crushing embrace rather than vice versa. She missed him dearly but told herself to mourn later, she was in a sticky situation now. She hadn't planned on running into the Marauders until she had at least had time to talk to Dumbledore about her self proclaimed mission to save the world. On the bright side, she had quickly found out that her training would be just as potent in this time. Then again, perhaps it was because she knew Remus and his habits so well. The werewolves she'd be working with in this time would likely be entirely different from those she had in hers. Her werewolves pledged their loyalty to her and would willingly lay their lives on the line for her at the drop of a pin. There was no telling how the werewolves of this time would treat her though.

Sirius was still bowing, possibly waiting for further instruction. Hermione stepped up beside Remus and reached out to place her hand on his arm, a silent command for him to settle down. She wasn't sure if he would react as well as he usually did, but was pleasantly surprised to see him come down from his panting, snarling form to stand beside her simply baring his teeth at Sirius now. She could feel the muscle beneath the arm her hand sat on and knew without a doubt that even at the tender age of seventeen, he could shred Sirius into tiny, minuscule pieces. Sirius took Remus' quieting as a good sign and backed up a little more, relaxing his stance. It was obvious that neither boy was used to seeing calm Remus in werewolf form as they were still staring in awe at the both of them. Hermione looked around the ground, searching for Pettigrew but finding him nowhere. She wondered if perhaps he hadn't joined in that night, or maybe he was just hiding.

Shaking her head, she let go of Remus' arm and moved back to her trunk. "If you're quite done, I really must be going. I have to speak to Dumbledore."

"Hold on," James called out, not as direct as Sirius, but more imploring and hopeful. "I don't mean to be rude, but you showed up out of nowhere, tamed a werewolf, which isn't doable, and now you're walking away as if this is the more normal event you've ever been involved in." He stared at her, confused. "Now my friend here thinks we should wipe your memory clean of all of this and he has good reason to think so, so if you don't give me a logical reason as to why you're here and how you were able to stop him," he said, pointing at Remus carefully, his eyes watching his friend warily, "then I'm afraid I'm going to have to distract the werewolf while my friend over here goes through with what he plans."

Hermione, though she knew she could disarm Sirius within the blink of an eye, sighed, shaking her head. "I'm here because this was where I desired to be most. I was able to tame this young werewolf, because that is what my job is," she told them, keeping incredibly important details to herself.

"Your job?" Sirius asked, skeptically.

"I'm currently working on a project, one where I've found a way to control werewolves during the full moon. In turn, it makes my job a werewolf tamer. D'you understand?" she asked, looking back and forth between them.

"That's not possible! How come we've never heard of this project and why would _you_ want to help werewolves?" Sirius shouted, still not trusting her in the least.

Hermione shook her head, knowing that getting close to the Marauders would be a hard task, to say the least. "It's very possible. In fact, I believe I just proved it," she replied pointedly. "You hadn't heard of it because it's really quite new. And why I want to help werewolves is really none of your concern," she told him, feeling defensive. Her emotions were becoming out of control and she could tell that Remus was noticing them too. She didn't want him to turn on his friends, especially not when they were in human form. "If you'll excuse me now, I'm really in quite a hurry." Hermione didn't wait for their reply but began walking away once more, just waiting for someone to stop her again.

"We should stop her," Sirius could be heard saying to James.

"And do what? _Obliviate_ her?" he asked, sounding mildly worried.

"Well we can't just let her walk away. We don't know who she is or what she's capable of. She knows too much," he told his best friend, his tone angry.

Hermione heard the crunch of ground and knew that Sirius was raising his wand to do her mind damage. Instead of waiting for Remus to interfere which she knew he would, even though he was currently scratching his head with his back leg, she whirled around and said, "**_Expelliarmus_**," easily plucking Sirius' wand from his grasp and catching it as it flew to her.

"Understand this," Hermione said, her tone serious and unbending, "while you don't know me and you don't trust me, I have already proven that I'm far more advanced than you can imagine. If you think my skill lies only in calming down werewolves you are gravely mistaken. I have fought in a War, have training as an Auror, and have seen things your worst nightmares could never compare to. Now I've been patient and understanding, but try one more attack on me, and you'll be seeing stars and begging for your mummy," she spat, tired of their little game. Tossing the wand across to Sirius, never letting her eyes fall as it landed at the boys feet, she crossed her arms. "Are we going to have a problem or not, because time is truly of the essence," she told him, frowning as she tapped her foot against the ground.

Sirius cleared his throat before turning his face away in what Hermione judged as his compliance not to attack her again. Nodding, she turned around and finally managed to leave the clearing she had appeared in. She could hear Remus grunt in the background, a noise that he accompanied with a snort, meaning he was saying goodbye to her. A small smile nearly broke out over her scowling face, but wasn't able to battle the anger already forming in Hermione. Her plan for everything to go smooth had obviously been destroyed right from the beginning. While she had learned something useful involving Remus and his werewolf form, she also learned that the Marauders were a distrusting bunch, especially Sirius. She had her work cut out for her, that was for sure. Thankfully, her first conversation with someone from the past hadn't ruined her whole plan. She hadn't given away any vital information and there was no way they could possibly know she was from the future. Even if it was a little rocky, they would certainly remember her.

Sighing, Hermione made her way toward the tall school in front of her, nostalgia getting the best of her. She couldn't wait to see Dumbledore, there was so much to tell him, so much to plan. For the first time in nearly two months, Hermione didn't feel quite as empty as she had. Things were going to get better, because really, they couldn't get any worse. She hoped Darnell, Jacques, and Brighton were all right, they had all been quite worried and upset when she had left. Her thoughts turned to young Remus and she was overwhelmed with how nice it had felt just to be near him. Of course, it wasn't really her Remus, and the only reason it probably felt so familiar was because he was in his werewolf form, which wouldn't have really aged at all, or been changed by the bleak darkness of life.

As she trudged closer and closer to the school, she couldn't help but feel that things were looking up. A howl could be heard in the distance and it sent a familiar zing down Hermione's spine. Turning her eyes up to the sky, she stared at the moon. "Don't worry, Remus, love, I have this completely under control." A faint smile tugged at her lips and she wondered what Remus would say if he were alive to know she was doing this. He'd probably give her a whole list of reasons it could go wrong and then tell her that she had to what she felt was right Of course, at the last minute, if she was still going through with it, he would've talked her out of it, if only because he'd want to be with her and not left all alone. Her heart ached as she thought of him. Of his smiling face, his rumbling laugh, and his peaceful presence. She could still feel the way he used to run his hands through her hair or wrap his arms around her waist. A sob meant to break out of her throat, but she swallowed it down and raised her chin. She had a mission, and there was no time to feel sorry for herself. The future was waiting to be shaped, and she was the one who would shape it.

* * *

**A/N **_Thank you for reading, and I hope you're enjoying this story. However, and I don't mean to be overbearing or review seeking, I would really like some feedback. I can tell from the hits that are being recorded that there are a fair few who are reading! I like to think that I'm slowly building up a good "Time Travel" novel, given that I've read many and found numerous quite lacking. I do my best to stay in character, I've researched as much as I possibly can, and I'm doing my all around best to give all you reading an enjoyable adventure in love, mystery, and friendship. I hope that you will give me the consideration of reviewing as it is really quite nerve wracking for me, a writer of Dramione love/drama/adventure epics, to hear what you all think of my first dabble in Hermione/Remus and time travel. So please, though I don't want to whine, let me know what **you** think!_

**Translations**_ (as found on another site, so please understand if they are incorrect. This is what they are **meant** to mean):_

_**Père Loup** - Father Wolf  
**Mère Loup** - Mother Wolf  
**Copil** - baby, child, cub_

_Thank you so much,  
Love,  
**-Amanda**_


	4. Three

**Review offering insight to the story**:

"_Alright, you wanted some helpful feedback - here it comes. I can, even after these first three chapters, that this will probably become one of the most/more original timetravel fics circled around Remus/Hermione I've read. Your writing is very "emotional", deep, and describing; you manage to capture feelings and surroundings of the situation very well, at the same time as you keep the reader feeling an underlying sense of something "big" being at work - Hermione's mission itself. The tone is grave and serious; not so it becomes too much or overbearing, but just perfect to capture the importance of every moment, every little detail, and every little second of what Hermione is doing. It is very captivating to read, and, as long as you somehow manage to keep the story going forwards, and changing, at the same time as you manage to keep that feeling without letting it get "too dark", I cannot see how this fic can possible turn out to be bad or a disappointment. That you have researched thouroughly before starting, shows that you take this seriously, and are not planning on abandoning it/deleting it. As a word of advice, I think that, considering you're dealing with time travel, that you make up some sort of plan/schedule for the more important/finer points/events that you must add to the plot/story, and, if you haven't done so already, think ahead. Plan ahead, so you have something to write towards (and, having an actual ending planned and written down is something I highly recommend), otherwise, the risk of becoming bored as an author, or having the fic "run away from you", is quite likely, espescially since I can sense this will be a long one! Best of luck in your writing_!" - **_LadyVisionary_** of FanFiction net.

**Thank so much to the following reviewers**: _Hotkat144, sln1987, Shannon, hawkeyehellsing, Dizi 85, Black-Rose23, bethygirl94, lave en fusion, Ellie Remy Lupin, draculasbride2008, **MasqueraderNumberOne, Cody, Angelic Bladez, Suzy87**_and_ especially** NZgnomegirl, LadyVisionary, **_and_** galloping-goose **(Zeus)_

_**The Werewolf Tamer**_

_Three_

Albus Dumbledore was working late in his office, sighing with distress over the lack of DADA professor for the coming year. The former professor, an older man who had devoted a good amount of his teaching career to Dumbledore had retired quite suddenly and Albus was left looking through the qualifications of many good witches and wizards who wanted the position. He had but a few days to set it up however, and he was wary of who to employ. Times were dangerous and the teachings in the DADA class would surely keep the innocents inside his school safe from peril. With a sketchy war sitting on the brink of exploding in the Wizarding world, Dumbledore had to be especially wary of most things that happened as of late. Besides his skepticism however, he felt a sense of need to wait.

He felt rather than heard the new presence. Like a whispering shudder, a ripple through time opened, and he could feel it right down to his very bones. He gave a heavy sigh and wondered if this new and most unexpected arrival would be for or against his position in the coming events. He dearly hoped, given that time travel could only be done my someone severely powerful and knowledgeable, that the witch or wizard was against Voldemort. He waited patiently in his office, somehow knowing that he or she would come to him. He shuffled the papers in front of him, tapping his chin as he once again questioned the credentials of Avery Sr., feeling that familiar distaste for the man and knowing it would be a bad decision. Placing it on the pile he dubbed 'unsuitable,' Albus moved onto another.

When he heard his stairs react to a visitor, he wasn't sure if he should be worried or comforted. It was a familiar notion that his passwords revolved around sweets, and so it was likely that it was someone who must know him, in some way. Of course, it was also quite possible that the person coming to see him had done his or her research and was on their way to finish Albus off for good. His wand was placed beneath his palm while he sat forward in his chair, waiting for his guest to join him. He stared at the door to his office, his face rather tranquil while his mind was a buzz with curiosity. This was quite certainly a very important event. Someone, be them from past or future, had thought it vital to come to this year, meaning that there was some sort of significance, of course.

His door opened to reveal a disgruntled young woman. She was dressed, neck to toes in dramatic black robes which were left open in the front, to reveal her all black attire. Her wand was held in her hand, though she didn't lift it or even give him the faintest notion that she might. She walked forward, not even greeting him, with her trunk hovering and following her inside. Her thick boots made a loud clomping noise, but it could've been from the silence of the room, rather than their heavy appearance. She was quite beautiful, whoever she was. Not in a classical beauty sort of way, but more of a natural sense. Her hair fell down in waves, reaching to her slim waist in a waterfall of thick curls. Her face, though young and sweet, held a ferocious edge to it that nearly made Albus sit back with recognition. Sweet and young she may first appear, but it was obvious that her soul and knowledge went far beyond age. And her eyes, so void and empty they were that Albus felt that familiar need to comfort her and tell her that all would get better.

"Headmaster," she greeted faintly, her eyes pinning him to his seat. He tried Leglimency on her, in hopes that perhaps he could learn of her allegiance that way, but quickly found himself staring at a brick wall. Her shields were strong and very much in place, and he had to admit that they were quite impressive. For someone who couldn't be too far into her twenties, she seemed to possess an ability in areas most didn't. There was experience in both her stance and her eyes, familiarity in her short smile, and trust radiating from her cold eyes. Whoever she was, Albus knew, she would be vital to the days and years ahead of them. She had come for a cause, and it wasn't in favor of Voldemort. He felt inexplicably cheery for a moment and let himself relish, if only for a few seconds, in the fact that he had in front of him a very capable and strong witch, one who quite plainly hated Voldemort, he could see that right away.

"Good evening, Mrs..." he trailed off, catching the glint of her wedding band and waiting for her to fill him in on her identity.

She hesitated, staring at him a long moment. "I go many names," she told him, faintly. "You may call me Hermione."

"Hermione it is then," he replied, a small, questioning smile tugging at his mouth. "And what may I do for you, Hermione, at this late hour?"

She leaned forward, resting her hands on her knee as her legs crossed tightly. Her wand was still held tightly in her grasp, though not directed at him, and he wondered if it was there as a precaution. He questioned what she had been through in her time and couldn't help the swell of wonder over the young woman who sat before him. She held a regal sort of air, nearly snotty, but more of a commanding presence than anything else. The directness of her gaze meant nobody would consider deceiving her, not to her face. And even though she was a small slip of a thing, he could feel the power radiating off of her in waves. It was almost overwhelming, though he schooled his features quite well.

"I believe I'll need your help for much longer than a night," she admitted before taking one heavy breath in preparation. "I've come to redirect the future," she told him, her voice soft and uncertain. She was sure about what she was doing, he could tell that. He could also tell that her decision would not be swayed. It was his reaction that had her worried, and he couldn't help but think she had right to be. The words she had spoken, the meaning behind them, why it was all so very large scale that he wondered if she truly knew what she set out to do. Time is fragile and tampering with it could mean dire consequences. He could see from the set of her jaw that she had already been told so though, and he couldn't help but wonder what she could tell him and why her help was needed.

"Hermione," he began, in his most understanding voice, "the future is--"

"Sir," she interrupted, her lips pursed for a second, "Perhaps I should first warn you that I know all about tampering with time. It was you who gave me a time-turner in my third year and you explained to me the repercussions of my every action. Now, I know what I've done and I know what I'm here to do is all quite dangerous and unstable. But understand me clearly sir, when I say that nothing you can say will change my mind on the matter. Going back to my time is not possible, changing this one however, is. And believe me, Headmaster, when I say that you would agree it needed to be changed were you alive to see what the future holds," she told him, her tone sharp but rather coaxing.

He took a moment to gather the fact that he was dead in her time. She obviously had time to know him and he wondered if it was age that did him in, though he was almost certain it was the events that caused her to come back. Not his death alone of course, for he must have died along with a great deal of others. Her eyes spoke wonders of death and destruction and he really wasn't sure he even needed Leglimency to learn certain things about the intriguing woman in front of him. "I do not mean to deter you, exactly," he told her, with a great sigh. "However, my dear, you must realize that when someone arrives in a time that is not theirs, a great deal of problems can arise."

"I realize that," she agreed, giving a short nod. "I don't plan to tell the world where I'm from though. And I don't expect everyone to bow to my will just because I happen to have the entire future locked away in my mind. What I need, and I say need because it is quite a necessity, is access to you, the Marauders, and Lily P- Evans," she quickly corrected herself. "Through you, I hope to gain access to the Order, too," she added, and Albus almost allowed his eyes to bulge but quickly cut the reaction short. The Order of the Phoenix was quite new and he was surprised, especially for her young years, that she was a part of the well hidden and secret organization. "Yes, Headmaster, I know of the Order. In fact, in my time, I was running it for awhile."

"Really?" he asked, quite surprised.

She hesitated for just a moment, but then told him, "After your death at the end of my sixth year, it was headed by McGonagall and another member that I'd rather not name just yet. After I finished by seventh year however, it was then headed by me and my two best friends. The reason sir, that three newly graduated students were heading the Order is because one of us was destined to destroy Voldemort," she informed him and he couldn't help the way he leaned forward to hear more, even though his intelligent mind told him she was already saying things the Time Laws were deathly against. "We headed it together for three years. Unfortunately," she paused, and her eyes turned off, though clearly radiating a deep pain that tore at his own heart, "in the event of Harry's death, he was the boy expected to save the world, you see," she said, quietly, "Ron and I, we were who took over from then on. And then three years later, just eight months ago in my time," she told him, her voice taking a sorrowful turn, "Ron too was taken. So I was left as the last one to lead it," she informed him, "though I abdicated my title two months ago."

"Why?" he wondered, his brows raising with question.

She swallowed hard, her eyes falling and her shaking hand disappearing into her shirt to pull out her necklace. Hanging from the end was a wedding band that matched the one winking on her hand. "My death was high on Voldemort's list and though he was currently in hiding, trying to regather his strength after his battle with Harry three years prior, he was sending his Death Eater's out often, to cause fear and remind everyone who had won." She swallowed, her eyes taking on a glazed over edge. "It seemed whenever we left home," she said, her fingers delicately turning her ring over with memories, "there was another attack on us. We were careful, vigilant, and we always made it away. Until... until that one day and _she_..." The young woman shook her head, "I'm afraid I lost too many and the Order wasn't..." she broke off, shaking her head, before suddenly lifting her head and schooling her face, the ring falling from her fingers. "Headmistress McGonagall took over from then, I'm sure."

He too understood the despair that came along with war and the loss that follows a person for the rest of their lives. He knew though, that to tell her this would only cause her more pain. She did not want understanding or somebody to tell her they feel the same way, because her pain was her own. He did not know the future, he did not really know her, but he knew that whatever her loss was, it was great. Perhaps there wasn't even a number for it and that thoroughly scared him. How horrible could the future be that she had to change it? She had admitted to him that this Harry fellow did _not_ win, though he was destined to destroy Voldemort, what did that mean? "Hermione, will you please explain to me your meaning in Harry being _destined_ to win against Voldemort?" he asked.

"There was a prophecy," she informed him and he stilled, staring at her with a questioning, worried gaze. "I don't know if you've heard it yet, or if you are waiting to, but in it, it states, '_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies. And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not. And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives. The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh months dies._' Harry was born July 31st, with only one other child born at the end of the month. Voldemort goes after Harry and after killing his parents, and then turns his wand on the one year old baby. Using the _Avada_ curse, he hoped to destroy Harry, his only possible adversary. But when the curse hit the baby, it rebounded and instead caused a..." she furrowed her brow, "an odd occurrence to Voldemort. He didn't die, not exactly, but he was drained of nearly everything. He wasn't really human after that and it took him a great deal of time before he was able to gain his power back."

She paused, allowing Dumbledore time to absorb it all. He took a deep breath, thinking of all that would happen. A _baby_ defeating both Voldemort and the Killing curse. It was too unimaginable to think of and yet... somehow he knew it was true. He could think this Hermione woman to be a sham, to be lying in order to gain his cooperation, or even to be in lead with Voldemort, and trying to wrap Dumbledore around her finger. However, deep down, he knew. This future, it was both bright and dark. Voldemort could be defeated, would be, at least once. How long that peace would last, he didn't know, yet... He turned back to Hermione, nodding for her to continue.

She nodded back, her expression grim. "He didn't come after Harry again until his first year here at Hogwarts, hidden on the back of a professor's head. He was after the sorcerer's stone, which you had hidden in the school shortly before a break in at Gringotts. He attacked again in second year, though he was in the form of a memory, as his former self, Tom Riddle. He was hidden in the Chamber of Secrets, which I should inform you that Hagrid did _not_ open. Muggleborn's were being attacked by a Basilisk that was traveling the school through the pipes and such. Harry battled it, killed it and destroyed the Horcrux journal that brought forth Tom Riddle."

She sighed, sounding weary with the recount, "Then again in fourth year Voldemort attacked, where he gained Harry's blood enough to give him a real body, because he wasn't quite complete yet. Harry escaped then too, though another boy's life was needlessly taken. That was all during the time of the TriWizard tournament where Harry's name was somehow submitted, which we later found Professor Moody had done, though it was actually Barty Crouch Jr. using Polyjuice potion to disguise himself."

Shaking her head, she continued, "Harry met Voldemort again in fifth year at the Department of Mysteries. The DA, that's a DADA group Harry started, was called forth, though only two besides myself and Ron came to help Harry because he had a nightmare that his godfather was being taken to the Department. He wasn't. Voldemort implanted the memory to draw him out. Harry's godfather heard of it though, and he left his hideout to come to Harry's aid. Numerous Death Eater's were found out and Voldemort battled both you and Harry. We lost Harry's godfather to the Veil," she finished, looking reminiscently mournful.

She paused for a moment and then gathered up her voice and continued on her tale, "In our sixth year, Voldemort caused havoc through a student. Two students were harmed, though their attacks were supposed to be aimed at you. Your death came at the end of the year, taken by a man you thought was loyal to you." She shook her head, her lips pursed and he wondered if she were going to cry. She looked quite heartbroken and he wondered how close he was to the young woman in the future. Given how often she was in the thick of it with this young Harry fellow, he had no doubt he must have known her quite well.

She swallowed loudly and gained her composure. "In our seventh year, however, our problem was staying alive while hunting for Voldemort's Horcruxes," she gave a short nod when he gasped quietly, "And for the three years leading up to the Final Battle, we didn't meet Voldemort, but his Death Eater's at every chance. Throughout those years, we gained the trust and strength of the Order, various Auror's and students, but never the Ministry," she admitted, shaking her head and scowling. "Two Minister's later and we still hadn't gained their support, they refused to admit that Voldemort was back, and instead set out to ruin the reputation of both you and Harry."

She grimaced, her jaw clenching for a moment. "The Battle ran in our favor up until the very end. We were almost all wizards and witches, though I had my packs with me," she told him, and when she caught his furrowed brow of confusion, she sighed, "My werewolf packs," she explained, and his eyes widened before looking out the window to see the large, full moon.

"I'm not a werewolf, Headmaster," she told him, shaking her head softly. "No, my husband was and shortly after I finished my seventh year, he and I started an organization called The Lup--" She cleared her throat, glancing at him fleetingly over her folly, "The Werewolf Project. It was designed to tame werewolves on the full moon." She held her hand up when he tried to interrupt. "There is a potion called Wolfsbane that has not yet been created in this time. In my time however, it was able to give werewolves back their senses. They would still be the wolf, but they would retain their human thought process. It was wearing off though, not working on those who had been using it for long periods of time. Voldemort had the clans on his side, because the Ministry and society had ostracized werewolves, calling them monsters, creatures, inhuman," she spat, annoyed. "I thought, if I could give the werewolves an opportunity for equality, they would change sides. The only reason they were with Voldemort was because he gave them the notion that they would be free if he won. I gave them the chance to _really_ be free."

"And it worked?" he asked, anxiously intrigued.

"Yes," she replied, and for one moment, she looked quite happy. It was a drastic change in her appearance, and she radiated with warmth. He found himself nearly smiling, even after all that he heard. She had such a presence. "Clans came from all over and for six years, my husband and I watched their process. You see, we couldn't take them off the Wolfsbane potion right away, that would be suicide. No, we gave them half the potion, so they would be half and half. They'd understand who we are and be able to remember their actions, but they'd also act like a werewolf would. We learned how to_ talk_ to them," she told him, her eyes shimmering with excitement. "Can you imagine, Headmaster? Nobody would have any reason to be afraid, as long as we know how to speak to tell them that we are not a danger to them, for they only truly attack humans because of the fear that the human would attack and kill _them_, then we can all live in peace." She smiled briefly, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "My packs were very loyal to me and my husband. We made serious dents in Voldemort's ranks. And our packs came with us during the Last Battle," she told him, her eyes turning far off in memory.

He waited for her to continue, noticing right away that it would surely be a sorrowful tale.

"It was a long and grueling battle, but we had high hopes and expectations that it would surely be our victory. After all, Voldemort was missing six pieces of his soul and surely weakened by that. And Harry was strong, powerful," she told him, sounding proud and fond. "They faced in the middle of the field, while everyone raged around them. Trolls, giants, werewolves, vampires, witches, and wizards. We lost many; more than I could ever think to count. Friends, family, mentors," she told him, sadly. "But Harry met him fiercely, ready to destroy him, confident in the fact that he was destined to do it to save the world, save his family and his friends." She shook her head, eyes filling but no tears falling. Her jaw shook, but she ignored it to continue speaking, "Harry had the upper hand and Voldemort was quickly weakening. Even his followers could see that and they were slowly retreating." She swallowed, her eyes closing for a moment, shaking her head slowly. "Harry was grinning, he truly looked like he was about to win us our victory, until..." She sighed, letting out a shaky, emotion breath. "His wife was nearby, she was battling fiercely with a Death Eater when the Killing curse hurled her way. She didn't even see it coming, but Harry did," she told him, quietly. "He couldn't get to her, but he saw her fall. He abandoned his fight with Voldemort and went straight to her. She was... she was everything to Harry. He had pleaded with her not to go to the Battle, knowing that the Death Eater's would be out to destroy all he cherished. But she refused to stay home, and she was a strong fighter, so..." Her jaw twitched as she clenched it tight as she inhaled a large, calming breath, her eyes raising to meet Albus'. Such pain sat in the depths of her dark brown eyes, clear and cutting. "He died holding his wife, sobbing against her. Voldemort shot the curse at his back, the coward," she snarled. She shook her head, "Voldemort was drained after that, weakened beyond measure. He shouted his victory and apparated away to regain his power, which he still hadn't gathered back completely three years later. I refused to allow us to lay down in acceptance. I... I told them not to give up and I continued to fight. Our side put a huge dent in his Death Eater's before they all began apparating away in retreat."

Albus shook his head at her recollection, feeling defeat and sorrow in her words. The only boy with the ability to defeat Voldemort, and he was killed for loving his wife. In a proper battle, were Tom Riddle a worthy opponent, he would not kill a man whose back was turned. It was cowardly and held no real victory in it. Albus did feel a small happiness at the fact that the good side did not just accept defeat though, and was gladdened to hear that they continued to fight the good fight for years to come. "Hermione," he said, quietly, "if I may be so bold to ask, if Harry's death and Voldemort's victory is the reason you return, why then did it take you three years to accomplish?" he queried.

"Returning took me one day," she told him, shaking her head. "In fact, I only got the idea late last night. And Harry is not the sole reason I returned, but one of many. After I lost my husband," she said quietly, her pain so desperately evident, "I was bent on killing his murderer. I dueled her yesterday and neither of us came out the winner. When I returned home, two of my werewolf friends put me to bed and another called on Madame Pomfrey to aid my injuries. My friends fought though, one wanted me to move on and look to a brighter future, the other thought I should grieve as long as it took. They didn't agree with my need for vengeance though, and were worried about the way I left everything behind. I was no longer part of the Order, though they continued to hound me into coming back. I was hardly ever seen in the Wizarding world, unless my husband's killer had been spotted. I spent my time at home, hardly sleeping, eating little, and speaking to hardly anyone. The Wizarding world was crying out to see me, and I was too consumed with hatred to go back."

She frowned, "In my time, being the last of the trio, I was considered everyone's last hope." She shook her head, looking forlorn, "They looked to me to save the future and rectify the death of Harry and all others. The Order and society named me the _Witch-Of-Hope_. My husband always told me that he believed if anyone could save the world it was me, and that together we would. He told me that I instilled hope in others and that the world needed it if we were ever going to save it." She swallowed, looking down at her hands for a moment. "With him gone I had no hope anymore. I had nobody but my clans, and while they were loyal and I cared for them, I couldn't... I couldn't be what they wanted me to be. Not without him." She took a moment and Albus wondered if he knew the young man that meant so much to the woman before him. He noticed she didn't say his name and wondered if that was because it hurt her, or if it could possibly be someone important to this time or near it. He didn't know what year she was from though, so he couldn't figure out a timeline just yet.

She sighed, lifting her shoulders. "Things have been going wrong since the day I set foot in the Wizarding world. I've lost my parents, mentors, my friends, and my husband. And most of that happened in the last three years. It's not supposed to be this way," she told him, shaking her head and staring at him seriously. "Harry was supposed to defeat Voldemort and the world was supposed to get better. If he wasn't destined to win, then I cannot and will not believe that Voldemort was supposed to."

He agreed, he couldn't believe that Tom was supposed to win. It just wasn't right. Good triumphs over evil, and therefore, Voldemort should have been destroyed. Given a little more time, possibly to gather his anger over his death's wife, maybe he would have killed Voldemort. He wasn't given the chance however, instead killed without his knowledge of the attack. A hero killed by a coward. How wrong it was.

Hermione's jaw clenched and she closed her eyes for a moment. "When I found the book that told me how to change the past, it gave me a hope that seemed lost. I can change it. All that truly mattered. I can save Harry's parents and countless others. I can give Harry the life he didn't have, one where he had his real parents, and not an aunt and uncle who despised him. I can save Harry's godfather, not only from being blamed for Harry's parents deaths, which he had no part in, and going to Azkaban for thirteen years, but from death. And I can save my husband, I can save him a lifetime of pain." She looked so wonderfully pleased by the world she painted and he had to admit, though he didn't really know the people involved, the idea was grand and beautiful to hear of. "And I will, Headmaster. Whether you wish to help me or not, whether you think to deter me from my plan. Know this, and know it well, my task will be completed and the future as I know it will never come to pass," she told him, passionately.

"My dear, the future you speak of sounds... repulsive," he told her, nodding slowly and stroking his beard with his hand thoughtfully. "I must admit to you that my scholarly mind tells me that this is a fool's errand and can't be done, however," he added, seeing the defiant and angered look on her face, "my heart tells me that in a world of magic, sometimes what we believe is truly not all that it seems. Therefore, knowing that you come here only to help and aid us in our actions against Voldemort, I must offer you my assistance in all that you plan to do."

She smiled, genuinely, and nodded at him. The pain was still beaming out of her eyes, but he could see that he had truly made her happy, if only for that moment. "Thank you, Headmaster."

"Please, Hermione, call me Albus," he told her with a friendly smile.

Her eyes brightened with surprise, "Albus, then," she agreed. She rose from her seat, her trunk lifting without her saying a word, but a simple turn of her wand. "I best be off. I'll be staying at the Leaky Cauldron if you need to call on me. After that though, I'll be searching for somewhere to stay. I'll send word when I've found a safe place, and of course, when you need to know of something vital to the lives of those around you," she told him. She paused for a moment, "Gideon and Fabian Prewett," she said, cautiously, looking at him with question.

"They'll be at the next Order meeting, if you're inclined to meet them," he told her.

She nodded slowly, before saying, "I'm afraid I haven't asked, but what is the date. You see, I know what date I want it to be, however I never thought to see if it happened as such."

"August 25th, 1976," he told her, noting that she looked quite pleased. He glanced down, his papers speaking of various capable witches and wizards for the job he had to fill waiting. "Hermione, may I ask how old you are?" he wondered, looking up at her curiously.

"Twenty three, sir," she replied, questioningly.

"I see, and what were your grades like when you attended Hogwarts?" he queried.

She blushed lightly, her eyes sparkling, "I received top grades throughout my years at Hogwarts. Twelve O.W.L.'s greeted me upon graduation," she assured, looking partly pleased, and partly embarrassed.

"Wonderful," he praised, feeling quite happy by her assertion. "And d'you have records of such feats?" he wondered, hoping he wasn't offending her.

She nodded slowly, moving to her trunk and beginning to search through it for her records. "I brought them along to prove what year I attended and that, obviously, I wasn't some sort of nutter. Plus, you wouldn't recognize me and likely be quite confused as to my familiarity with you," she told him from the depths of her trunk as she searched diligently. "Ah!" she exclaimed, suddenly reappearing, her records in her hands. She walked toward him, one of her hands reaching out to push an unruly curl from her face. Her arm outstretched, parchment holding her grades waiting for his reflection.

Taking them, he rearranged his moon shaped glasses to sit lower on his nose for better reading and looked over the remarkable grades of the young woman before him. Noting that her grades in DADA were quite high too, and smiled hopefully before looking up at her. "You're skilled in DADA then?" he wondered.

"Yes," she said slowly, her brow furrowing. "Harry trained me outside of classes, too. He's magnificent in DADA," she praised, and he got the feeling that such words meant something very important. She didn't seem the type to over embellish. "My husband too, was a great teacher in that position. In fact, he taught here at Hogwarts for a time, before he was forced out because of his... _affliction_," she said the word with distaste and he was pleased to see that she felt being a werewolf was not a curse, but a part of a person. "I was also an Auror, I'm not sure if I told you or not," she amended. "So I'm well skilled in the area, along with many others." She spoke with a small note of discomfort. He noticed she was proud of her grades, but didn't appear to like speaking of them. Humble, he decided. Or perhaps, like many hard working students he'd known, she wasn't comfortable admitting how much time she spent in the library working for her grades.

He nodded at her, "The reason I ask, my dear, is that currently, I am without a DADA professor," he explained, staring up at her with hope. "Now, in front of me I have a good stack of people vying for the position, but with times such as these, I fear that I may employ somebody who wouldn't have the student's best interests at heart. I realize," he said, nodding at her, "that I could simply ask you who I employ and if they work out, but I'd rather employ you if you'd like. This would not only solve my problem but certainly offer you assistance. Seeing as you wanted to be close to me, the Order, the Marauders, and Miss Evans," he reminded. "I can offer you some time to think about it, but not much. The school year begins soon and--"

"Yes," she interrupted, her eyes sparking just slightly. "It would be an honor Headm-- Albus," she corrected, smiling briefly, "to teach the students here."

"Wonderful," he agreed, rising from his seat. "You won't have much time to prepare I'm afraid, though I'm sure with your grades, you'll be able to teach the class quite well." Rounding his desk, he handed her her grade sheets and placed a friendly hand on her shoulder. "There is also another matter I'd quite like to speak with you about." He motioned to the door for them to leave, "We can talk while I show you to your chambers," he explained.

Nodding, the young woman followed him out of the office, her trunk hovering behind them. She looked up at Albus, waiting for him to continue and he was struck once more with both the familiarity in her eyes and the darkness in the gaze. He felt a shard of worry pierce his heart. He knew her to be a good woman, one who would surely help the right cause, but she was suffering dearly. She looked tired too, and he remembered how she had spoken of a lack of sleep and eating rarely. With a heavy inward sigh, he realized that while Hermione had come to save them all, there was nobody to save her. He was reminded of the subject he had hoped to broach with her and thought back to how she had become quite animated in her speech as she spoke of her project with her husband.

"There is a student that resides here at Hogwarts, Hermione, and he, like your husband, is afflicted during the full moon," he told her, noticing that her lips curved for a moment on one side, almost a smile.

"Remus Lupin, werewolf since he was a small boy," she told him, and he felt his eyes widen at her knowledge of him. "Yes, I met him recently," she told him, nodding her head to a window as they passed through a hallway. "He was with the Marauders, enjoying a jaunt in the forest, I believe," she told him, sounding almost amused.

"You met him," he said surprised, and had to stop himself from querying as to whether she came to be harmed at all. He had to remember that she worked with werewolves, with great conclusions he might add.

"Yes, actually I arrived right in front of him," she offered, glancing up with a look of both genuine pain and excited familiarity.

"Did you know Mr. Lupin then, in your time?" he asked curiously.

"Very well," she said, softly. "He was my first subject during the project. And I was quite happy to see that he still acts in werewolf form now as he does then. Same actions, same sounds, and it was beyond easy to speak to him. Calming him down was actually easier than I had expected and he took a liking to me very quickly. His human form won't remember me, I know, but the wolf will," she told him, giving a nod of certainty.

He smiled at her, "Good. Very good. In fact, Mr. Lupin was the reason I wanted to speak to you. You said there was a potion that could help him... Wolfsbane," he said, remembering the conversation about the project.

"Yes, but it wears out after a time. From what I can tell, the werewolf blood eventually creates an antigen to fight off the potion. It doesn't suddenly stop working, but it loses its effect over time," she explained. "However, I'm hoping to start my project before anybody can think to make the Wolfsbane potion. I can, of course, administer it to Remus, if he'd like, but I'd much rather give him the opportunity to learn the in's and out's of my project. You see, if I can, I'd like to change the view on the stereotypes society places on werewolves. It's not right and they deserve their freedom as much as anyone else. Why, Remus is one of your best students, and when he leaves school, he won't be able to get a job that he deserves. He'll be forced into doing odds and ends, never able to make an honest man's living, just because people see him as something to be afraid of_ one_ night of the month!" she told him heatedly.

"I agree," Albus replied, nodding sagely. "I believe Remus would be quite agreeable also, which is why I think it would be nice if perhaps you could speak to him about it. Tomorrow maybe," he offered, looking down at her imploringly, "As you've noticed, he spends these nights on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, near or at the Shrieking Shack. It's safer and his friends can bring him to Poppy if he's hurt himself, which he still tends to do, being so reckless in that state. He's also very tired, and--" He stopped himself, shaking his head. "I believe you know of everything I speak of, since you are, after all, a woman who works with werewolves as a career."

She gave him a soft smile, "Hermione the Werewolf Tamer," she said, quietly.

They stopped outside of a large portrait, where Albus couldn't help but grin, as a spunky wolf ran rampantly around a glorious field. A full moon sat high in the portrait, surrounded by shimmering stars. The wolf hopped up on a rock ledge and howled up at the gleaming yellow orb, before turning to Hermione and Albus and panting in wait for the password.

"_Lupesc_," he told it, smiling. He noticed Hermione's smile and knew that she had noticed the Romanian word for "wolf's". "I believe this room is quite suitable, don't you?" he asked, as the wolf portrait opened for her.

She nodded agreeably, walking through and motioning her trunk to rest near the hearth. "I will go to the Hospital Wing to see to Remus tomorrow," she agreed, nodding.

"Splendid," he replied, stepping forward, feeling as though he had a million questions and was a small child, begging his mother for attention.

She walked to him, her eyes sparking with fondness. "You are quite young compared to when I know you," she told him, quietly. "And I must admit, I've missed you so. You can't know it or feel it yourself, but you were very much a mentor to me growing up. In fact, I believed you weren't able to make mistakes," she said, a small hiccup coming out in her shaking voice of memories.

"I wish, dear, that I had such memories of you," he told her, honestly, feeling a grandfatherly urge to become the young woman's protector and guardian.

She sighed, nodding agreeably. "You and Harry were very close, much closer than you and me. He idolized you, thought the world of you really. He never let anybody speak ill of you and was more angry about what was being said in the papers and by the Ministry on your behalf rather than his own. You see, you were the reason he no longer had to stay with his aunt and uncle. You gave him his freedom and, besides Hagrid, you were the first to really tell him of the parents he lost. When you died, Harry was a true mess. He never forgot you, and he fought for your memory for the rest of the days of his life. Yours and many others," she told him, shaking her head slowly as her eyes turned off in reflection.

He considered her words greatly, realizing that while he was very fond of being a Headmaster and had never taken anything less seriously and to heart, he hadn't ever taken the time to really know any of his students as much as she spoke of him with Harry. He had a friendly acquaintanceship with most those who passed his school, if only to keep things professional. There was also the added reminder that he had been through war, and knew of what loss would be like. To know these students, only to lose them in future would be quite painful. But then, to never know them could be just as hard, couldn't it? Whatever his relation with Harry, it must have been close to him as well, and it must have pained him to die, knowing he was leaving someone behind who dearly needed his guidance.

He turned to her, speaking with an air of hope, "In the future, I will meet this Harry you speak of, and I hope to have the same close friendship that you have told me of. It is in our friendships and our guidance of others, that we learn of who we truly are and where we stand in the world. The people around us, shape us. Not always for the good, but not always for the bad either."

She nodded, taking his words to heart by the way her eyes thinned just slightly. "Yes, you will know him and you will love him," she decided, her tone so firm, it was as though she were giving him an order rather than an assertion.

He laughed lightly, liking her already. She was smart, welcoming, friendly and quite spirited. Even with the weight of the world on her shoulders and a pain deep in her heart, she had an air about her that captivated people, he could tell. "Well, the hour is late, and I'm sure you are tired from your journey. Tomorrow, after meeting Mr. Lupin, I hope to speak to you more about your classes and perhaps... of your future here, in both the Order and the Wizarding world itself," he encouraged.

"That sounds lovely," she agreed. "Have the other professors arrived yet?"

"Professor McGonagall will be arriving tomorrow afternoon, she's the transfiguration professor. She was away visiting family, otherwise she spends most of the year here. The potions master, Professor Slughorn, won't be back until early August 31st. He created himself a group called The Slug Club, which he opens to all Houses, all years, and all ancestries. The only requirement is that the student be powerful, successful, or well-connected. It's a mite rude in that way." He frowned for a moment, and noticed she too wasn't very enamored with Slughorn's group.

"Charms is taught by Professor Hilaris, who's a very kind and exquisitely cheerful woman. She's at least twice your age and will no doubt act like a doting mother on you," he told her, smiling warmly. "Our Herbology teacher, Professor Sero, is quite forgetful about most things that don't involve the information on his plants. In fact, he's usually a little late in showing up. So he might not arrive until the welcoming feast. Let's see, who do we have left... Oh yes, the Arithmancy professor, Socors, and the History of Magic professor, Binns, are here now. He's a rather hard man to get along with and doesn't spend any time in the school if it's unneeded. Professor Binns is a ghost, so he doesn't actually leave, you see." He gave a short laugh, "Well, it's likely he taught you, so I don't believe I need to explain. Who else," he said, tapping his chin, "Well, the Divination professor, Laneus, wrote me a post saying that it would unwise of him to return as it is not in the stars until tomorrow evening." She scoffed, shaking her head at it. "Not a Divination fan?" he queried

She shook her head, "It's a rather woolly subject, if you ask me," she told him with a short nod.

"Ah," he said, smiling lightly and nodding. He continued on with his list of who was and wasn't attending the school, noticing her nod every once in awhile and a small frown at the Care of Magical Creatures professor. "Did you know Kettleburn?" he wondered.

"Only in passing. He retired after my second year and Hagrid took over," she informed him, looking rather sad for the half giant currently residing on the property as the Grounds Keeper. "While he tended to bring very dangerous animals to class and always thought they were the safest of creatures, he was a very great professor," she told him, lifting her chin as her eyes watered.

"I'm sure he was, or will be," he told her, feeling a sense of melancholy drop down on them. "Perhaps you'd like to see him for tea tomorrow, though you seem to have quite a busy schedule already."

She smiled at him, her tears slowly evaporating. "There is always time for Hagrid," she said fondly, nodding.

"Good. Well then, I believe I've overstayed my welcome. Rest well, Hermione, and I'll see you in the morning." He moved to the door but then paused, turning back to her. "Given that you're a professor now, I'm going to have to begin calling you by your last name, dear. May I ask what that is?" he asked.

She was busy already, digging around in her trunk and only giving him half of her attention, and that is why, he assumed, that she was so forthcoming with the information. "Lupin," she replied, before stilling and lifting her head slowly.

It was slow in coming to Albus for just a moment and he nearly left it at that, until all of the information he'd gained from Hermione gave to him. Remus was her first subject in The Werewolf Project, and she said her husband was both a werewolf and her partner. She met Remus that night, and looked both sad and excited by the fact. She spoke of him as though they were incredibly close and she knew information involving him that he would be careful in giving out. "_Mrs_. Lupin, I'm guessing. So it is your married name," he said softly, realizing quickly how hard it must have been to see her dead husband alive, even if he was seventeen and in his werewolf form.

She swallowed audibly, rising from the floor. "Yes," she whispered. "We married shortly before the War. We weren't involved until I finished school, of course. I had known him since I was thirteen, but never considered him anything but a mentor. It was while we put together The Werewolf Project, which later turned into The Lupin Werewolf Project, that we fell in love. He was my inspiration for the idea and I thought to try it out on him first, before giving hope to others. When it worked out, we were both terribly excited and we extended it out into the world for others to come." She gave him a watery smile, so full of pain that he felt the familiar grandfatherly urge to embrace her. "I know my duties Albus, and I know that this may seem a depressed widow's journey for her lost love, but I have far greater needs for being here. I will not tell Remus of his future with me, and I will not interfere with his life as it unfolds, not anymore than I have to. I will keep him at a professional distance, especially given my position now as his professor. I assure you," she said, taking a wobbly step forward, her face pained and dark, "my reason for being here is not only for Remus. I came here to save everybody and give him the life he was never allowed to live. With his friends and the opportunity to use his intelligence and capability in a world that will accept him."

Albus stood, rather stunned. He never once thought to question her actions, and certainly hadn't even considered the notion that she was simply a grieving widow come to save one and only one person from the future. He could see, very clearly, that Hermione Lupin was a woman who had set out to change the whole course of things. She was here not for herself, but others. And it was perhaps the fact that she wasn't looking out for herself, even after the loss of her husband and best friends, that encouraged him to the fact that she was quite remarkably the most unselfish person he'd met. "I have no doubts in you, Mrs. Lupin, I assure you. I understand that it will be quite hard to see your husband every day, especially however many years younger." He paused then, silently querying to her original year.

She blushed very lightly, obviously worried about how he might react to her current year. "It was 2003 when I left, sir."

His brows lifted considerably. Twenty six years into the future, he thought with surprise. He mentally did the math and learned that Remus had been quite a bit older than his wife, though it didn't bother him as much as she might have thought. He could see that she dearly loved her husband and that was all that mattered to him. "And you say that a Death Eater killed me? Are you sure I didn't simply lay down to my old age. Why, I'm surprised," he said, jokingly.

She chuckled lightly, looking much less worried. "I'm quite certain. In fact, you were very spirited for your age," she informed him, smiling softly.

He laughed, shaking his head. "Ah, my dear, you fill an old man with dreams of being perfect."

She bowed her head, smiling warmly.

After a moment, he sobered some to the true state of things. He reached out, placing his hand on Hermione's shoulder. "I worry, Hermione, that you might be taking on a large quest. I have no doubt in your capability, but understand that what you plan to do will take a large amount of sacrifice on your part. You will lose those that you've already lost. The future will be so different that you may never know those you did when you were there. People will change, feelings will change, and I fear that those you love and who loved you, may not feel the same when you reach your time. Do you understand, dear?" he wondered, carefully.

Sniffling, she nodded slowly. "I knew when I left, Albus, that I would be forever changing everything around me. And it hurts, yes, to know that those I cared for would not know me as I knew them. It's hard to know that I will wake up to the faces of familiars and unfamiliar and feel the opposite of what I did, but I will do it. The sacrifice is worth it if it means that I can give life back to the people I knew. And I will not let the Wizarding world become what it was in my time. It was too reckless, too lifeless, too hate filled." She shook her head. "Don't worry yourself, because while I won't have them, I will at least have some. Simply seeing your face, Headmaster, has brightened my life, I assure you."

He nodded, patting her shoulder earnestly. "You are truly a heroine in disguise, Mrs. Lupin," he told her genuinely. "You may not see it, you may not even feel it. But you are." He nodded to her, before turning and walking to the portrait once more. "I don't believe you wish to be called Professor Lupin, not with all that is at stake, my dear, so what would you like me to tell others of your name."

She paused, obviously affected by the idea of changing her name. "Granger," she told him, quietly with a hoarse turn in her voice. "My maiden name is Hermione Granger."

"I see," he replied, smiling understandingly. "I will see you in the morning, Hermione."

"Yes, goodnight Albus," she farewelled, turning back to her trunk to finish unpacking.

After leaving her chambers, Albus made his way back to his office, reflecting on all that had transpired that afternoon. While unexpected and quite surprising, his late evening that had quickly become tedious, had become one of intrigue and hope. He genuinely understood why those in the future referred to her as the _Witch-of-Hope_ as she had just bolstered his own. An uncharacteristic grin broke out over Albus' face. For the future was bright now, he had someone there to mend it for the better. Yes, he had a true trust for the young woman he only now met. Somehow, she had bewitched him with her kindness, fierce determination, and obvious intellect in the ways of the world. She was truly an asset and he was glad to know that she was on his side, for she would be a serious opponent were he against her. There was a power in her that he wasn't even sure she knew she had, and he knew that when others realized it, there would be trouble for the young time traveling witch. He sighed, while he felt joyous in the new add on to his staff, he knew there was trouble brewing. He only hoped Hermione Lupin was ready to conquer it, for she was there only hope.

* * *

**A/N** _I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It was quite interesting writing in Albus' point of view. I hope you like how things are progressing, please let me know. Thank you for reading, I'd love to read your views on things, so please review._

_Much Love,  
-**Amanda**_


	5. Four

**Review offering insight to the story**:

"_Wow. What so many authors would have made boring and uninteresting, you made exciting, gripping, tantalizing, and more importantly, heart-felt. So many authors do not portray Albus correctly, and the fact that you didn't truly delve into his character like so many authors have done, makes this story all the more interesting and fabulous to read. You give an air of mystery to Dumbledore, and let me tell you, that is not very easy to do. Oh, and I love Hermione's part. I felt her courage and determination to do what is right, even though she was so broken inside. She didn't let that show, not until the very end, and even then, it still didn't truly show. Hermione's feelings, though not in the visual or emotional spectrum Dumbledore would be able to truly feel, came through so clear, and I could feel her pain. This story is so unlike any other story I have ever read. I've read a story about a werewolf tamer before, but this is much more tantalizingly gripping. Everything about it, from the very beginning to this chapter, has been vivid, and gripping. There is a dark edge to this story, but I see a ray of hope in there. You truly know how to balance happiness and angst in the same chapter-well done. As to what is going to come next, I can only guess. There are so many aspects to this story, I don't know which one you'll start with. All I can say, is that I can't wait for the next chapter and how Hermione will react to seeing her husband for the first time for a long time..._" - **_PiperPaigePhoebe01_** of FanFiction net.

**Thank you to the following reviewers**: _MoonNightLover, Hermione Lover, Hotkat144, IrishPixie82, Black-Rose23, Legessa,** bethygirl94, Caligirl-HPLVR, mskiti (Tabi) **_and _especially** MasqueradeNumberOne, DeltaGamm Liv, Suzy 87, PiperPaigePhoebe01**_ and_** galloping-goose** (Zeus)_

_**The Werewolf Tamer**_

_Four_

Hermione sat in the lumpy bed she was given as the new DADA professor, staring out at the room around her. It all felt quite uncomfortable and out of place. She had spent an hour arranging her rooms, trying to get everything in order. She couldn't leave too many things out in the open, not sure who would come visiting. Her small common room was furnished well enough, though she longed for the comfort her den provided. The hearth was flickering with a fire, warming her rooms up to her taste. She left only one photo in the common room and that was the one she had taken shortly before leaving. Her, Darnell, Brighton, and Jacques stood nicely on the shelf just above the small table; which was surrounded by a couple of chairs and covered in her favorite tea set. A small quilt lay over the back of the couch sitting adjacent to the hearth, one she remembered often wrapping herself and Remus in as they spent a day lazing about in the den, reading a book or simply enjoying each other's company. A bookcase was filled with the few books she brought with her and she quickly amended that she would venture to Hogsmeade soon to rectify the emptiness staring out from the dusty shelves.

Her bedroom was quite the opposite. It was where she kept most of her items, as it would be hidden from view. Her bed had been dressed in her duvet and Remus' pillow, while their wedding picture sat on the left bedside end table. The right hand table was covered in the other photos she brought along, each staring out at her with a happiness that she couldn't quite embrace. Her and Remus' robes hung beside each other in the wardrobe and she filled the left side drawers of the dresser with her clothes, unconsciously leaving the right side open for Remus'. She hung her wedding dress up in the closet, catching herself staring at it, she closed the door and told herself not to wallow. Odds and ends covered shelves and dresser tops, small memories of the world she had lived in.

She kept Remus' pocket watch sitting on the top of her dresser, remembering how he would draw it out of his right pocket, furrow his brow and check the time, before slipping it away until a later time. It was a habit he'd always had, though she never knew what time he was waiting for. She brought it with her whenever she left the house now, needing to feel the smooth, cold gold in her hands, the weight a comfort in her hands. Often, at odd intervals, she would reach over and check the time for him, pulling it from his pocket and angling it up for him to see. He'd always give her that hidden smile of his, one that told her he cherished her.

Sighing, Hermione pulled Remus' housecoat around her tighter, feeling her chest constrict. Shaking her head, she climbed into bed and pulled the duvet up tight around her. Her legs lifted and she curled into a tight ball, feeling the sad agony grip her once more. She was going to have to face so much in the time to come. Everything was on her shoulders and there was so very much to change. While things would get better, they had to get worse first. Tears pricked at her eyes and she was in no mood to push them away. She was tired, too tired to stave off sorrow. Moonlight shimmered in through her bedroom window and she buried her face in the pillow to keep from looking upon it. Tomorrow she would face a seventeen year old version of her husband. A Remus that hadn't seen what her husband had, a Remus that hadn't embarked upon a dark and twisted journey yet. And she would save him from all of that, she would save everyone from that.

Inhaling a deep and heavy breath, she let it out in a shuddering sob. The robe, the duvet, and the warm fire did nothing to clear the cold from her bones. She was so desperately sad and empty that it felt as though nothing could fill her again. She missed her friends, her packs, her life. And most of all, she missed her husband. Murmuring his name in her cries, she let the sorrow swallow her whole, until she was nothing but a shivering mass, beckoned to sleep by her weariness. Perhaps the future wouldn't be as bleak as her past, though the thought seemed to mock her situation entirely. For she was in the past and about to change the future. The logistics would have made her laugh, if she wasn't' in a nightmare ridden sleep, writhing and crying out against the injustice that Bellatrix Lestrange had so heartlessly handed to her.

The next morning was a dragging event for Hermione. She rose early, though not in the middle of the night like usual, since that was when she had gone to bed. She showered, feeling unusual in the school showers as opposed to her usual home bathroom. And after eating a meager meal that a house elf had left on her table, one of a muffin and some tea, she wasn't interested in much more anyway, she dressed in black pants and a navy blue shirt. It seemed the only time she wore colour was when she was dressed in Remus' clothes. Mourning even lent itself to her clothing choices, and had she been in a better mood, she might have thought it rather funny. She had never been one for fashion, though it seemed her mood made the decision and not her disinterest. Brushing her hair, she threw the mass of thick curls up into a pony tail, needing it out of her face. It felt heavy as it fell down her back, reaching to nearly her waist as the ponytail didn't bring it all that high.

Inhaling deeply, she left her room, taking the entrance to her office and making her way through her new classroom to get to the first floor. From there, she made her way to the Hospital Wing, hoping to find the other three Marauders fast asleep. It was quite early though, so it was likely that they were just bringing him in. She briefly wondered if perhaps she should get them something to eat. She knew that Remus wouldn't be hungry at all, he usually felt quite sick after a transformation. The other three boys, if James had an appetite like Harry and Sirius was still as bountiful in his meals as she remembered, would be quite hungry. She made a detour then, going down to the Kitchens and speaking to a house-elf there, asking them politely if they would be inclined to bring a meal fit for six up to the Hospital Wing for three boys. She purposely made sure there was a lot of food, wanting to occupy them while she tried to speak to Remus, though she knew he would be quite weary. He would stay awake awhile anyway, too sick to close his eyes.

Her boots clicked and clacked against the stone hallway, echoing in the empty hallway around her. Her robe was left open and she remembered to place Remus' wedding band beneath her shirt, so not to arouse questions. She felt chilly even though it was late August and crossed her arms to ward off the chill. As she approached the double doors of the Hospital Wing she felt a wave of worry pass through her. What if they didn't want to see her, or if Remus felt angry with her for knowing about his _affliction_? When he was younger, she knew, he was very self conscious and uncomfortable with anybody knowing about it. He was careful in who he know and what he did, so as not to arouse suspicion. How would he take it when she walked in, acting as though she could be his savior?

Steeling herself, she squared her shoulders and pushed open the doors, her head held high and her Gryffindor courage in place. She was met by Madam Pomfrey, who was talking under her breath, obviously in a rather annoyed state. She held in her arms various healing potions and calming draughts, from what Hermione could tell. She had seen them used enough on her fellow fighters in the war and outside of it. She could clearly see three boys hovering around one bed, all yawning at different intervals but talking animatedly. She was walking toward them when Madam Pomfrey exclaimed, "Professor Granger, what brings you down here this early morn?"

Hermione turned abruptly to her, surprised to hear her sound so cordial, like they'd known each other longer than all of three seconds. "I was encouraged by Headmaster Dumbledore to come and check on your patient, as I have something quite interesting to discuss with him. D'you think he'd be up to it, Madam Pomfrey?" she wondered, hoping that her query over Remus' health would assure Madam Pomfrey she was interested in him feeling better, not grilling him unnecessarily.

She nodded slowly, her eyes bouncing over to the four boys who'd suddenly gone quite silent. "Yes, Mr. Lupin will no doubt be up for some time anyway. Especially when he's being hounded by his best friends there, always getting into trouble those four," she said, rather fondly, as she nodded over at them.

"Well, knowing they have such a capable woman to nurse them back to health it's no wonder that they act with disregard," she replied, remembering how often the woman had tended to her and her friends. Why just the other night she was bustling around Hermione's bedroom, fixing her up after her duel with Bellatrix, she would forever be in debt to the medi-witch, that was a fact.

Blushing with modesty, Madam Pomfrey stuttered out a thank you before making her way over to the boys and waving one out of the way. Hermione followed, though slow and at length, hoping that the house elves would appear and distract the other three boys. No luck as of yet, and she reminded herself that courage was a trait of Gryffindors not slowly instilled in a person. Standing at the foot of the bed, she gazed around at the three boys, noting Sirius' cut above his eye and James' bruising chin. She didn't bother assessing Peter, though she knew that she shouldn't take offense to a boy who hadn't yet done anything. There's still time to save him, she reminded herself. She glanced at him briefly and recognizing the hate that grew, reigned it in and told herself she'd need a little time before being able to conquer that problem.

"And how are you since last we met?" she queried, a faint smile on her mouth.

Sirius frowned, looking away from her. But James simply smiled at his friend, turning his attention to Hermione and reaching out with a hand. "James Potter, madame, at your service," he greeted jovially. Hermione felt inexplicably surprised, though she regained her senses enough to reach out and clasp his hand. He shook it with vigor before nodding his head at Sirius, "This here's Sirius Black, that boy there is Peter Pettigrew," he told her, motioning to the rat beside her, "You didn't meet him. And this here is the nice boy you tamed, Remus Lupin," he informed her with great gusto.

Hermione chuckled lightly at his enthusiasm, though she did notice the way Sirius kept jabbing him in the ribs to shut up. She looked at Peter again, schooling her features and hoping she was smiling instead of scowling. He looked nervous, and his pasty complexion became even more pale as he gazed upon her. He was rather chubby and had stale blonde hair that appeared lifeless and stringy. It was prone to curl in some spots and though he wasn't in his animagus form, his face still took on a likeness. His nose was pointed, and when he tried to smile at her it came out small and watery. Compared to the others, he was quite obviously the black sheep.

Dragging her eyes from him, she inspected James, which was like gazing at a photo of Harry, save for a few things. He was a little taller than his son, and broader in the shoulders. There was no obvious look to him that he had starved at any time, though he wore his form well. He stood with an air of arrogance, swelling with pride and confidence. His smile was bred of friendship, and his features spoke that of a boy who was certainly liked by many girls. His hair was just as unruly as his son's, if not more, with raven strands flying all over, as though he had just stepped off his broom. Hazel eyes stared out from behind familiar glasses and sparked with a gentle comradery she had sorely missed. She pushed down the need to hug him, reminding herself that he was not Harry but James, and that his life was to end if she didn't stop it.

Her eyes then fell on Sirius, taking in his rather hostile expression, it was obvious he didn't want her knowing anything about their monthly excursions with a certain werewolf. He was handsome, she had to admit, though neither him or James could match her Remus. His black hair was cut fairly short, hanging over his ears and falling in his eyes with a casual elegance. There was a reason that he had a small fan base during his Hogwarts years and she understood the infatuation. She could see clearly the same aristocratic good looks that he had in his later years and felt a familiar tug to embrace him, telling him he looked much better than he did when she knew him. He was more filled out, strong and well formed. There was no gauntness to him at all, which she was very happy to see, and hoped to continue if she had her way. She would not let the world change him.

She had been musing for only a few seconds, because James was still grinning at her, Sirius still frowning, and Peter still acting as though he'd never seen a girl before. "Pleased to meet you, I'm Hermione, or as you will be calling me, Professor... Granger," she said, hoping they hadn't noticed her pause. She quite disliked reverting back to it. It had been a wonderful day when she had married Remus and taken on his name as her own and she wished never to sully it by taking it back, though in this time it wasn't legal any longer.

"Professor of what?" Sirius grumbled, looking haughty.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts," she informed him, watching for a reaction.

He turned abruptly, "Aren't you a little _young_ to be teaching us such an important subject?" he wondered, sounding nearly incredulous.

"I assure you, Mr. Black, I'm quite capable of teaching you anything," she told him, pointedly. "My qualifications can be seen at any time, and if you'd like to take it up with Headmaster Dumbledore, I completely encourage you." She stared at him a moment, before adding, "And I'm twenty three, it's not as though I graduated yesterday."

"Still, with times as they are, you're a little young to be making sure that our lives are properly protected," he replied, edgily.

She sighed, shaking her head at him. "We'll see about that come September 1st won't we?" she replied, before turning her attention away from the boy and onto Madam Pomfrey. "Poppy, d'you have a problem with the boys eating in here? Tilly and Cobble are bringing platters of food for them to eat." She heard Remus give a moan and amended with, "Don't worry Mr. Lupin, none of it's for you. And if you'd like, I'm sure Madam Pomfrey could give you a potion to stop your sense of smell from acting up when the food is brought in. It'll put a stop to your stomach ache and likely lessen the headache you have," she informed him, knowingly.

His eyes opened and hers fell to meet them, though she hadn't looked upon him since arriving. The familiar amber gaze met hers and she felt her heart clench painfully. He stared at her questioningly, before suddenly sitting forward, his eyes thinned and his nose carefully sniffing the air around her as though something were niggling at the back of his mind but not quite making it forward. His eyes never left hers, and he stared at her with a small sense of trust that she was sure was bred from her meeting with his wolf side. He was really quite handsome, even twenty years younger than the version she fell in love with. His face was quite the same, save for the lack of a few wrinkles and scars. He was built much the same, though less skinny than when she had met him in her younger years. He was well fed and reminded her greatly of her husband, who had been much more happy looking than he had been when she first met him. His hair was a healthy light brown with a blonde shine to it, and not a grey hair in sight.

She knelt down so she was eye level with him and no longer looking down upon him. Holding her hand out to him, she waited for his to lift and take hers. He was weary, his arm shook as it lifted, though he acted as if it didn't, refusing to acknowledge it with even a glance. His grip was warm and strong on her hand though, not crushing but firm. He stared at her curiously, his eyes betraying his need to know why he felt as though he knew her. Hermione smiled at him and she wondered about the way his eyes widened at the sight.

"Hello Remus," she greeted softly, knowing his hearing would be overwhelmingly high. "My name is Hermione and I've come to offer you a wonderful possibility," she told him, reminded of how her and her husband used to start their offers to various other werewolf clans the same way. He made to remove his hand but she reached out with her free one and clasped his against hers a moment longer, not only to create more a sense of understanding, but because she wasn't ready to let go yet.

"I met you late last night, while you explored the hills around Hogwarts, d'you remember that at all?" she asked quietly. His eyes thinned before looking her over for any sign of injury and then he tried to jerk his hand away. She held it tightly, hardly moving as he tried to get away. Had he not been tired, he could have thrown her away with a flick of his wrist, she well knew. But he was, and that was why she so boldly held onto his hand. "You spoke to me, even stood in front of me as a form of protection when your good friend Mr. Black tried to _obliviate_ me for your well being," she said, making sure to tell him she understood that Sirius was only looking out for his friend. His eyes flashed then and though his head turned a fraction of an inch towards his friend, he never lifted his eyes from hers.

"My career, outside of now teaching DADA, is one you've never heard of," she told him and she felt him still, likely worried that she was out to destroy him, rather than save him. "I'm a Werewolf Tamer, Remus, which means that I have the ability, well schooled over six years, to understand and control werewolves." She heard his breath catch and felt her heart go out to him. It must've been so shocking to hear that there was even the most remote possibility he could be controlled. "My hope is to one day live in a world where werewolves such as yourself are accepted just as much as any other witch or wizard. The Wizarding world sees you now as a creature to be dealt with, all because of one night a month, but I can give you the ability to tell them all that you can be controlled. It doesn't take a potion and it certainly won't take away what the moon turns you into. But I can stop you from hurting yourself, I can keep you from feeling scared of hurting others, and I can give you back your dignity."

She paused, watching his reaction slowly dawn, one of both caution and hope. "I'm not going to make you answer now. This is a decision you need time to think over." She squeezed his hand. "I will be here waiting for you whenever you'd like to talk. And if you're not interested in my project, then you can instead take a potion I know of. It's called Wolfsbane and I can create it for you myself, well before the next full moon. It will give you back your senses and while you'll still be the wolf, you will be able to think as your human side. Years from now though, this potion will no longer work, that is its only real folly." Smiling at him once more, she rose from her place, looking down at him fondly. Madam Pomfrey appeared, holding the potion that would put a damper on his sense of smell to help him. "Rest well, I don't believe you'll be feeling up to talking for at least another ten hours."

Her gaze washed over the other boys there and she noted their shocked expressions. Though they knew she was in a line of work involving werewolves, they likely hadn't thought she would offer Remus any assistance. A couple pops sounded behind her and Hermione smiled at James and Sirius, doing her best to turn the expression on Peter as well. "I know you're all hungry, so I'll leave you here to eat. Perhaps I'll see you later on, if not, then I look forward to the first day of school." She nodded, before looking back down at Remus and squeezing his hand once more before disengaging them, though he didn't seem to want to let go, and placing his hand in his lap. "Nice to meet you," she added, before turning to leave.

"If you're not busy later, Poppy, perhaps you'd like to join me for a butterbeer in Hogsmeade, I have some shopping I'd like to do," she called out on her way to the door.

"Th-That sounds lovely, Professor Granger," she replied, surprised by the kind offer.

"Please, call me Hermione," she replied, sending a warm smile to the nurse before leaving the Hospital Wing.

As soon as she exited, she let out the heavy breath stuck in her chest. Hurrying away from the hall, she did her best not break out in a run, knowing at least two of the people in the room would be able to hear her. Remus with his werewolf senses and Sirius with his dog hearing. When she was sure she was a sufficient length away, she broke down. Her knees gave out and she fell to the ground, where she pressed the back of her hand up against her mouth and beneath her nose, trying to muffle the sounds of distress trying to break out. It had been harder than she thought, to gaze upon his young face. He looked so much like how she knew him to be, save for aging around a few edges. He hadn't said a word, but somehow she knew that he would sound the same way, deep and nearly hoarse. It had been so undeniably difficult not to reach out and embrace him tightly, sob against him and tell him she missed him so. All of her strength had gone into trying to act as though she barely knew him, when in truth she knew him better than any other, and vice versa.

After having herself a good cry, she pulled herself from the floor and left for her quarters to clean up. She needed to wash her face before she went to see Albus, knowing that he would likely worry over her state. He was already acting like a comforting grandfather and she couldn't get the kind way he spoke to her out of her head. It was as though no time at all had passed and he spoke with the same wisdom and understanding he always did. She had been surprised at how comfortable he had been when she arrived, not looking the least bit surprised. She felt him try his Leglimency on her however, and was glad to know her Occlumency skills were a great match for him. While he had at first sounded like he wasn't sure he could let her continue her journey, she was greatly happy to hear him give in and accept her mission. He even appeared as though he were proud of her at some points, and she couldn't help but feel quite proud that she had managed to make him think even the least bit highly in her. She had been shocked when he offered her the position as DADA professor and it took her a moment to get over it before she could accept with increasing excitement. So far, her journey to the past seemed to be turning out well.

She wasn't sure what to think about Remus, she knew he was a cautious man and he would take some time to think over her offer. He wanted to put his hope in her, but he wouldn't want to give himself false hope. Perhaps when the other Marauders told him of how she had handled him that night, he would be swayed. Though Sirius didn't look like he was interested in speaking in her favor ever. He would be a problem, only because he was so very protective of his friends. She hoped to prove to him that she was just as fiercely protective of him, James, and Remus as he was. She needed James to live, if only for Harry's sake. And she couldn't imagine going through Sirius' death again. While they hadn't been close, he meant a great deal to Harry and Remus. His death had caused a great deal of anguish on her part too, for she had risked life and limb for him when she was just thirteen. She would do it again too, because he was a good man who didn't deserve what he got.

Peter was another story, while she wanted to keep him from becoming what she knew he would, she also wasn't sure how she would be able to put up with him. Seeing him made her stomach turn and her anger rise in her throat, though she tried to reign it in. Perhaps seeing him in classes would change her mind. She had a year to turn him over, to make him a better person, a good person who wouldn't turn on his friends. Somehow she felt it was a fool's errand, because he had the friendship and trust of five people and he traded all that in for a little recognition and power. What could she offer him that would stop him from becoming a heartless monster with no morals?

After stopping at her room to wash up, she told herself to make the best of the day. She had to meet with Albus and speak to him a little more about the future and then, if it wasn't leaning toward lunch time, she could go out to Hagrid's hut and meet him for a cup of tea. She wasn't sure if she could tell the half giant that she had known him, as he had the issue of being unable to keep a secret. Surely she could get to know him in this time and make the best of it as is. He would be a welcome sight, that was for sure. Then, she'd go with Madam Pomfrey to Hogsmeade, where she would learn more about the medi-witch who had helped her through more days than one should have to.

It was a busy day indeed, because she still had to start work on a schedule for her classes and a time line for what was coming. All of her information on the past had to be organized better and she decided that she would need to make some sort of a calender so she would know when it was happening. The idea was quite brilliant, she thought. A daily calender that would change itself would sit somewhere in her chambers and one the day of the event, a summary of what would happen and what time it would occur would show up. That way, she would always know of the day's events and never have to search her mind or her parchment for the papers. She made up her mind on it as she made her way to Dumbledore's office, feeling much more jovial after her intelligent decision.

Clasping her robes around her, still feeling the uncommon chill, Hermione made her way up to Albus' office, still finding it rather odd to event think of him on a first name basis. The password hadn't been hard to figure out at all, though she tried a various sweets before landing on, "_Lemon Drop_," which she found entirely too easy, and didn't think to use because of that reason. She knocked on his office door, giving him time to prepare for her arrival, if only a short moment. She heard his loud reply for her to enter and walked inside to find him standing near Fawkes, cooing quietly over the beautiful phoenix. "Ah, Hermione, how good of you to come. I must admit, I've been quite excited for our next meeting."

Hermione smiled warmly, before making her way over to take seat in a chair in front of his desk. "I've come up with a wonderful idea to remember all the information I have on this time," she told him, rather excitedly. He nodded for her to continue, clearly interested in her idea. She explained to him about the calender, adding on that it would have a concealing charm so only she would know the information inside of it, that way it could never get in the wrong hands. By the time she finished, she felt thoroughly satisfied that she had made a great plan in knowing what would happen.

Dumbledore also looked quite pleased, nodding his head and stroking his beard thoughtfully. "My dear, I do believe that is quite an intriguing plan. I have no doubt it will help us," he agreed, smiling lightly. "Now, how has your morning been, are you settling in well?" he wondered.

Hermione gave a soft sigh, leaning back in her seat and crossing her legs. "It was rather odd. Sleeping in the school again, and in a private suite, too." She shook her head, nibbling her lip in thought. "Waking up in a bed that wasn't my own, in a room I couldn't recognize, had me a little on edge at first. I have to admit, I completely forgot where I was and what I'd done." She frowned, shaking her head. "It came back quickly however, and I was a little frazzled while getting ready to go visit with Mr. Lupin and his friends."

"You can refer to them less professionally with me, Hermione. If we're going to be taking on such a large responsibility together, then we should surely discard with formalities," he told her, gently.

Hermione smiled slowly, "I was very worried," she admitted. "Just seeing him in his werewolf form got me unawares and off guard. But... seeing him so young, it was quite shocking really. He looks quite the same, aside from a few differences here or there. And..." She sighed, shaking her head. "I wanted so much to just reach out and tell him I'd missed him." She grit her teeth, her eyes filling. "It was so frustrating, Albus. And James!" she exclaimed, her head shaking and throwing her curls all over. "He looks so much like Harry, I was ready to shout and hug him," she said quietly, blinking furiously as a hiccup caught her. "Sirius looks much better than I remember, less sorrowful and more energetic. He hasn't taken quite a liking to me yet, very suspicious that one. With good reason, of course."

"Ah, so you know James and Sirius in the future too?" he queried, his brows lifting slowly. "Makes sense of course, you being married to Remus."

Hermione's mouth pursed for a moment and she wondered just how much she could tell him. "I knew _of_ James," she said evasively, realizing she had never told him that Harry was James' son, though she had hinted. "I knew Sirius briefly, for a few years anyway. We weren't very close, he was rather... childish in my opinion and we didn't get along very well. He was a good man though," she said softly.

Dumbledore's expression changed to one of understanding. "I see," he said quietly. "Then I am to understand that James and Sirius... they aren't..."

She shook her head slowly, her eyes falling. Taking a deep breath, she expelled it shakily, "James is Harry's father," she admitted, her eyes closing.

Albus gasped quietly, and Hermione was surprised by how his defenses seemed non existent with her. He used to be very careful not to let his thoughts out, but he wasn't cautioning himself in front of her. He had said that he didn't think formality should be taken, and she realized now that he truly meant for them to be quite honest and open with one another. She had the feeling that he might just turn into her only life line in this time, perhaps her only true confidant. "That would explain why James looked so much like Harry then, wouldn't it?" he said, sounding almost merry, as though trying to cover his sadness at the future.

She nodded, "Yes, they look nearly the same. James is a littler taller and thicker though, Harry was a rather scrawny boy. Not very well fed, you see."

"Why's that?" he queried, his brow furrowed.

"His aunt and uncle, they weren't the most caring of guardians. Treated him like a servant for the first eleven years of his life, telling him he was worthless and a brat. He was very thin and wore clothes far too large for him when I first met him. It wasn't until he was out of Hogwarts that he was really able to buy himself anything suited to him, and began eating more to gain a healthy amount of weight. He ate well here at Hogwarts, but his time spent at the Dursely's was quite taxing," she explained, frowning the whole way through.

"Dursley, you say," he said, his eyes twinkling. "I do believe that is the married name of Lily Evans sister," he noted, smiling wisely.

Hermione sighed, realizing she wasn't really able to guard herself with Albus. She hoped she had a better ability when around others. It was just too hard to explain anything without it becoming tangled and confusing. Everything was linked together in a very intricate manner. "Yes, Lily and James were quite the couple actually."

"I have no doubt about that. Mr. Potter has been after Miss Evans for quite some time, I know. I've been wondering myself when the chase would end and the relationship would start. They are quite remarkable students, Head boy and girl," he added, nodding.

"From what I've heard about them, they were an interesting pair. James being a Marauder and quite the mischief maker, while Lily was very studious and rule abiding. He'd liked her for many years, but they didn't get together until their seventh year. Lily didn't like him for most of the years they'd gone to school, or she at least acted that way. James was known for catching many lady's attention and hearts, but he only had eyes for his Lily. They marry quietly in the next year or so, and have a baby in mid-1980, Harry James Potter. They'll then move into a secret house, the prophecy being the reason. And a little over a year later, James will be killed trying to keep Voldemort from getting to his family, and Lily will die protecting Harry." She sighed, already feeling weary with the future. "Sirius Black will then be charged for causing the death of the Potter's and the murder of twelve Muggles and Peter Pettigrew, the Ministry assuming he was the Secret Keeper and Pettigrew's shout that Sirius had done it was proof enough. He'll then spend the next twelve years in Azkaban, until he breaks out in my third year when he realizes that the real traitor is alive."

"Pettigrew," Dumbledore figured, nodding with disappointment. "I couldn't believe Sirius would do it, he's far too protective of his friends."

"Well, you see, the Marauders knew there was a traitor in their midst, but Sirius thought it was Remus. And when Sirius was sent to Azkaban, Remus decided it was Sirius. Nobody suspected Pettigrew, he was weak and timid compared to the others. And with his supposed death, which was really a vanishing act after severing his pinkie finger off, they blamed it all on Sirius. In Pettigrew's death, they even gave him the Order of Merlin for his _heroism_," she spat, angrily.

Dumbledore heaved a great sigh. "As horrible as this all sounds Hermione, we must first remember that Peter has not yet done anything."

She nodded slowly, "I know, Albus, it's just so hard to remember that. He's a very horrible man in my time, nothing like the timid boy here."

"And that, my dear, is the difference we must remember," he replied, stroking his beard. "I take it then that things went well with Remus?" he queried, changing the subject.

"As well as could be expected," she announced. "He was quite shocked and he was gripping my hand after awhile, but I told him he had all the time he needed to consider it. If he instead opts for the potion, I'll make it for him. In fact, I'll get started on it as soon as I can, just to be sure. He might want to give it a try first," she explained. "The other three boys looked quite astounded by my offer," she added, smiling lightly.

"I don't believe any of them thought any kind of comfort would come to Remus. They spend every full moon with him and then spend the next day at his side, worrying over him. They're a remarkable group of friends, it quite saddens me to know it all falls apart," he told her, shaking his head.

"Not if I have anything to do with it," she responded vehemently. "Three of those boys went through a needless future and I won't allow it to happen again. Now I can't say I trust Peter, or even that I'll be able to help him. I will take certain precautions with him, but I won't ostracize him." She sighed, shaking her head. "I will not allow James and Lily to be taken though, and Sirius won't spend one day in Azkaban!" she exclaimed.

Albus stared at her a moment, and she was almost sure she saw admiration in his gaze.

Coming down from her spirited vow, Hermione turned the subject back to the werewolf project. "Albus, I was wondering if you would able to help me find someone. Two people actually. One I believe went here recently, his name was Brighton Louis, he's around eighteen now. A werewolf whose been around Scotland with his friends lately," she explained. "And I'm also looking for a man by the name of Darnell Lazarovici, he's older, around his forties, and he should be somewhere in Romania, I believe."

Albus nodded slowly, "Yes, I know of Brighton. He's been getting himself into some trouble lately. The world isn't ready to accept werewolves, and he hasn't been able to put himself to use, you see. Quite an intelligent boy, very thoughtful, just fell into the wrong crowd." He nodded, tapping his cheek for a moment. "Last I heard, he was somewhere in Dundee. I think he was apprehended by the Scottish Ministry, though, for indecent acts against a wizard's shop one late night, after leaving a bar."

Hermione smiled lightly at his extensive knowledge on him. "I'd like to see him if that's possible. Maybe speak to him about rearranging his life some and joining me in my project. Is there anyway that I could, perhaps, speak to the Scottish Ministry about letting him go?" she wondered.

"If you can give them a good reason to believe he'll reform his ways, then I'm sure they'll consider it. He's a good boy and this is his first real mark on his record," he assured, looking rather happy by her remarks.

"Wonderful, then perhaps tomorrow I'll set out to do that." She nodded. "And Darnell, d'you know of him?" she queried.

Leaning back in his chair, Albus tipped his head to one side, his eyes moving up while he sat deep in thought. "I don't," he admitted, with a shake of his head. "However, you said he was in Romania, can you give me any other details?"

"He's heading a werewolf clan there, near Tulcea. He has a safe word for trespassers, it's _copil_, which means cub, child, baby, that sort of thing. I'd rather not send in somebody who's unable to keep themselves safe though, so if you could give me the information, I'd much rather go myself," she told him quickly. He looked as though he wanted to argue, so she added, "Darnell is very suspicious of people. He's a fighter, and a strong one. He's quick with a wand, but he doesn't need it. His physical strength far outweighs most werewolves. He won't harm me, I know it."

"Hermione, you must remember that this Darnell is twenty-six years younger than the one you know," he reminded, shaking his head with worry.

"I know Darnell, and he promised me that he wouldn't harm me, no matter what the year. He would never make that vow if he wasn't sure that I would be safe venturing near him." She sighed, knowing he couldn't possibly understand. "Trust me, Albus, I know what I'm doing. If you find the information, do not pass it on to anyone else," she told him seriously.

With a heavy sigh, he agreed, looking disgruntled to do so.

Hermione checked the time and then rose from her seat. "I believe I have to meet Hagrid for tea now if I want to have lunch with Madam Pomfrey," she explained, smoothing out her robes.

He nodded, smiling lightly. "You've a busy day ahead of you," he noticed.

"Yes, I wasn't sure how I would do here. I thought I'd sort of fade into the background," she admitted nervously, twisting her hands against her sides.

"I don't believe that's possible," he told her honestly.

Hermione nodded her appreciation, before turning and walking to the door. "Since I won't be here tomorrow, I hope to have a school schedule for you by Saturday," she added, looking back at him as she reached for the handle.

"That quickly?" he wondered, his brows lifting.

She smiled, "I have a good grasp of DADA, I believe I won't have any trouble putting together the curriculum for my classes. I must ask, however, if the students have any understanding of the Unforgiveables?"

He shook his head, leaning forward and clasping his hands tightly above the desk. "No, the curriculum never allowed it. The Ministry doesn't believe we should teach them to the students."

"Not teaching them leaves them open and unguarded. War preys upon the weak and those who are unequipped to handle it will perish. I can't, in good conscience, not teach it to the students. The younger ones shouldn't have to learn of it, but I learned it in my fourth year, and it was good to have the knowledge." She stared at him, needing him to understand her point of view.

"You will receive a lot of angry post and likely some Howlers from disappointed parents and worried Ministry officials. It could bring unwanted attention," he warned, carefully.

"My goal here is to keep people alive and safe, I won't leave them open to attack and unable to defend themselves," she replied, her expression hard. "I would like your support Albus, but I will accept the consequences of my actions as they come."

He nodded slowly, "I will support you, during your teachings and while you're being attacked for them. You have me behind you, Hermione."

She smiled thankfully, "Wonderful. I'm off now, I'd really like to see Hagrid. Perhaps tonight, if I'm not too tired, we could talk more at dinner."

"Agreed," he replied, nodding.

Hermione left his office, feeling as though her shoulders weren't weighed down quite as much. It was good to have Albus to talk to, she felt as though he understood her position in things. Making her way across the grounds, Hermione felt a warmth fill her as she gazed upon Hagrid's hut. She had missed the great half-giant so very much and she worried for a moment that she may very well cry. Composing herself, she stepped closer and knocked loudly on the huge door. There were thick, heavy footsteps sounding inside before the door swung open, nearly coming off its hinges. The huge man stared out and then turned his head down to see her. Save for fewer grey hairs, he looked quite the same. He greeted her with a huge, warm grin, his dark eyes staring down at her with friendship and trust. "'Ello there, wha' can I do for yeh?" he asked, nicely.

"Hello Hagrid, my name is Hermione," she replied, holding her hand out. "I'm the new Professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts, and I wanted to come out and meet you personally."

He looked humbled by her coming to see him and took her hand, shaking it vigorously. She did her best not to wince at the way her joints felt as though they were coming out. He invited her inside enthusiastically, asking if she'd like a cup of tea. Agreeing, she sat down in one of the large chairs near the hearth and felt memories wash over her. She could practically see her many visits with Harry and Ron playing out before her. She was pulled from her musings by Hagrid's thick voice. "Haven' had many visitors out here, yeh see. So my hut ain't up ter what the school might. Hope yeh don' mind though. I'm such a ways away, professors don' come out ter see me much. Sure glad yeh did though, haven't had me any good talks in awhile. Dumbledore was here the other day, but he had 'portant business to tend ter, yeh see."

"Of course," she replied, taking the cup of tea from his large hands. "How long have you been the Games Keeper here?" she wondered, though she already knew the answer. She looked up at him curiously, her eyes showing her honest interest in learning more about him.

He sat down in a large chair, his body taking up a good portion of the room. "Well, I was expelled yeh see, back in me third year. An' me dad, he well... he... Anyway, Dumbledore, he stuck up for me after tha', got me the Games Keeper job, real trustin' man, he is," he told her, nodding with admiration shining in his eyes.

"Yes, Albus is a wonderful man," she agreed, sipping her tea. "Have you ever thought of becoming a professor then, Hagrid?" she queried.

"Oh, I could never... No, don't got me the magical skills, an'... well, after me expulsion, I don't think I'd be allowed to teach the young'ins," he told her, shaking his head briskly.

"I heard you had a way with animals, though," she told him, smiling warmly. "Perhaps one day, when the world has their eyes open, you'll teach Care of Magical Creatures or something similar," she offered, finding humor in her words.

"Perhaps," he allowed, looking both hopeful and crestfallen.

Hearing a tiny yawn behind her, Hermione turned to see a surprising sight. "Why Hagrid, I do believe you have a three headed puppy in your hut," she said, shaking her head at the sight of tiny Fluffy. Why, he didn't look scary or vicious at all. He was half asleep, of course, all three heads in different stages of wakefulness.

Hagrid hopped to his feet, looking terribly worried. "He's harmless, I swear it, Professor. Please don't be tellin' no one of this, I... His name is Fluffy and he's a real good pup!" he exclaimed.

Hermione rose from her seat, walking closer to the half asleep dog and reaching down carefully to scratch the middle head. The dog was black and brown, looking much like a Pitbull. It was panting at her as she scratched the middle head's ear and she lifted her other hand to reach for another. They stared up at her adoringly, through reddish eyes still heavy with sleep. When she ignored one it would bark, and she had reason to wish she had three arms for once. She chuckled over their enthusiasm and then turned to see Hagrid, seeing tears in his eyes. "I assume you have a harp to put them to sleep then?" she asked, smiling.

"Yeah," he said, hoarsely.

She nodded, rising to her feet. "He's a wonderful dog, Hagrid, and my only concern is that you take every precaution with him. He'll grow to be very big, you know, and you can't be too careful with a giant sized, three headed dog, now can you?" she asked, softly. Moving back to the table, she lifted her tea cup again. "D'you have any other pets?" she wondered.

Hagrid blinked, sniffling quietly before he made his way back over to his seat. "I get along with most'a the creatures in the Forrest," he informed her, bobbing his head.

"Mm," Hermione said, wondering if he had seen Aragog lately.

"D'you have any pets then, Professor?" he asked, holding his small tea cup in his huge hand.

She nodded slowly, "I have an owl with me, her name is Hedwig. I had a kneazle, but he died a couple years ago," she told him, a wave of sadness hitting her. He reached out patting her arm heavily, trying to be consoling.

"Sad thing when a pet dies, it is. Don' know what I'd do if I lost me pets," he replied, shaking his head forlornly.

"Yes, well, let's focus on something more cheerful," she declared, taking a quick sip from her tea cup. "Since you're Grounds Keeper, you'd have a great grasp of the land, wouldn't you?" she asked. He gave a big nod, looking quite proud of himself. "D'you think you could show me around then? I'd quite like to explore the Forest, if you're interested." She suppressed a chill at the idea. She needed to keep up appearances by seeming as though she didn't know much about the property, plus it would give her good reason to get to know Hagrid better. The Forest was another manner though, she felt as though it needed to be explored extensively. Voldemort had been found in her first year, feeding on the blood of a unicorn. She wanted to get over her fear of the dark depths of the Forest and perhaps learn more about the animals living there. Fear cannot be shown towards something she understands and knows. Why, she had been rather scared of Remus the first time he changed into a werewolf in front of her, but she had pushed through it. And during their project, the fear wasn't nearly as much, until one day, it wasn't there at all.

"Yeh be wantin' ter see the Forest?" Hagrid asked, both shocked and excited. "It's not the nicest place, it isn't. Lotsa dark creatures in there, there is. Got to be careful, yeh see. Dumbledore doesn' let students in, yeh see, too dangerous. But if yeh want to be goin' in, I'd be glad to take yer! It'd be a privilege, it would!" he told her, with a happy grin.

"Great," she said, before pulling the gold pocket watch from her robes and checking the time. "Well, I'm sorry Hagrid, but I'm supposed to be meeting Madam Pomfrey in Hogsmeade for a butterbeer and a little shopping," she said, rising from her seat. "You can join us if you'd like, the more the merrier," she offered.

"Tha's all right, I think I'll stay here. I gotta check the grounds, school be startin' soon, yeh know," he replied, standing up with her and walking to the door to let her out.

Hermione stopped to pat each dog's head and then made her way to the door. "It's been a pleasure visiting with you Hagrid. I'll come by soon, and maybe we can look around the ground then, all right?" she asked, smiling.

He nodded, grinning at her, "Yeah, thanks fer visitin'. I'll be seein' yeh 'ermione," he replied, lifting a hand to wave as she walked down from his hut, waving back to him.

Hermione crossed back to the school and made her way up to the Hospital Wing, seeking out Madam Pomfrey. Walking through the double doors, she found four beds occupied, the Marauders all fast asleep. Sirius was snoring loudly, so much so she was surprised anyone was able to sleep. James was snoring lightly too, not nearly as loud as his best mate though. Peter was curled up in a ball, his hands curled up and pressed together up near his nose. She frowned lightly, before shaking off the angered feelings she had toward the boy. She turned to see Remus staring up at the ceiling, obviously the loud noise was bothering his sensitive hearing, and she realized why it was he spent so much time awake after his transformation. She considered leaving him be, knowing that he likely wouldn't want to see her for awhile, while he considered her offer. But one look at the tired expression on his face made up her mind. After making her way to the cabinet that she knew Madam Pomfrey kept certain potion, she searched out the one she needed, making sure that the medi-witch was nowhere in sight. Then she walked toward him, doing her best to press her boots down in a manner that wouldn't cause the loud 'click clack'. He heard her anyway and turned his chin down to look at her.

Kneeling down beside his bed, she avoided his gaze though she could feel it burning holes against her face. He was very curious and she couldn't ignore the way he still sniffed the air around her questioningly. Hermione tipped her head to one side, trying to hear if Madam Pomfrey was near by, but found she couldn't hear anything but Sirius' grating snoring. She finally turned her eyes on Remus, only to find his eyes ringed with dark marks, half closed in his tiredness. His bangs were stuck to his forehead, obviously he was overheated from the after effects of the transformation. She knew though, that she couldn't remove his blankets, otherwise he'd get a chill. He was susceptible to illness after the full moon, though it was the only day it really happened. Other than that, he was virtually impermeable to disease, flu's, etc. Without thinking, Hermione reached out and pushed the fringe off his forehead, her cool palm obviously felt nice against his skin, as he sighed contentedly. He was so much like his older self that Hermione's breath caught for a second. Shaking it off inwardly, she lifted the potion to his mouth and explained in a soft voice, "To weaken your hearing, so you can sleep. I can't imagine anyone accomplishing the feat with Mr. Black's snoring, even without superior hearing."

He sipped the potion before she even finished her explanation, smiling lightly at her small barb at Sirius. His head fell back on the pillow, looking thoroughly exhausted. Hermione lifted the blanket, bringing up to below his chin and tucking it in around him, feeling worried about his health. She had to stop herself before she squeezed his hand, kissed his forehead, and told him, "_When you're feeling better, I'll kiss your every injury better_," like she used to with her husband on the day after his transformation. She felt tears come to her eyes and closed them tightly. "Goodnight, Mr. Lupin," she whispered to him, before turning to take her leave.

His hand clasped hers before she could take a step and she turned back to look at him. He said nothing, but his eyes were fluttering so much that she was sure he was so tired he didn't know what he was doing. His thumb brushed against her hand and then fell limp to the bed beside him. "Thanks," he managed, his voice soft and hoarse.

She nodded, though he couldn't see her as he'd already fallen into a peaceful sleep. Hermione didn't think on it long, and pulled her gaze away from Remus as she heard the sharp footsteps of Madam Pomfrey approaching. Leaving his bedside, she went out to see the medi-witch, asking her if she'd like to go to Hogsmeade then and have a butterbeer and maybe a little lunch. The nurse looked quite happy by the idea and after checking on all four patients, she changed her clothes to that of casual robes, before joining Hermione in a carriage ride out to the small town. Hermione hid her worries and her familiarity with Hogsmeade well, asking Poppy to tell her of its history, and show her the stores. They had a short lunch, where they chatted about the school and Madam Pomfrey told her various amusing stories about the students she'd had to cure. Hermione returned to the school fifteen books heavier, though she had shrunk them. She had explored the various stores like she'd never seen them before, and it was quite an experience since she hadn't been there for six years. After picking a few things up at Scrivenshaft's Quill shop, she visited Zonko's purely out of curiosity of what she might be seeing in the school in the near future and then made a short stop at Honeydukes Sweetshop.

Walking Poppy back to the Hospital Wing, chatting amiably over this and that, she stopped by Remus' bed as the medi-witch hurried into her office for a moment to grab something. Hermione pulled the long bar of chocolate from her bags and placed it down on the small bedside table, hoping it would cheer him up when he woke. Her Remus couldn't eat anything but chocolate during the day after his transformation, and she only hoped that it was the same when he was young. Poppy returned, a picture in her hand and Hermione met her half way to see the interesting photo. They spoke a little longer about the medi-witches career and when she noticed James waking up, she took her leave to let Poppy get back to her work. It was later afternoon and she decided it would be best to get to work on the calender, and then perhaps her class curriculum.

With one last glance at the boys occupying the Hospital Wing, she felt the familiar swell of protectiveness rise up in her. She would save them all.

* * *

**A/N** _I hope you enjoyed this. Not much more to say on this front. I'm trying to update my other stories, but I'm currently going to be away from the computer for a little while. I'm having some semi-serious problems with my back and it hurts to sit up for too long. Since this chapter was already written and ready to be put up, along with one for **Secret Life**, I thought I'd post it to keep everybody happy. Sorry, but sitting at a computer for long periods of time takes its toll and the pain in nearing excruciating at times. I'll update as soon as I can, thanks for understanding._

_Much Love,  
-**Amanda**_


	6. Five

**Review offering insight to the story**:

"_You continue to amaze me. From the very first sentence, even the very first word, you amaze me, all the way to the always-perfect, always beautiful ending of your chapter. You portray Hermione so well. I can hear her entire voice, feel her entire desire to want to help them. I feel so terribly sorry for her. She wants to help them, and she tries so hard to stop her feelings from showing, and still, they show...they're beautifully written. Nobody can write emotions like you do; when they attempt to delve so deeply into one person's emotions and perspective, it ends up seeming awkward, but it doesn't happen with you. It just seems right, with everything just fitting together, like it was meant to be. Remus and Hermione's interactions are spot-on. I could just imagine Hermione being there...that's one of the things I love most with your stories, you know? Without any effort, without any straining, I can see everything that's happening in my minds' eye, so clearly it was like I was actually there. I keep saying this, but you truly are one of a kind. I cannot wait to read the next chapter, but don't rush it-I don't want you to hurt your back more. Anyway, beautifully written, and I cannot wait for more. Say, could there be a chapter in Remus' POV sometime soon? (hint, hint)_" - **_PiperPaigePhoebe01_** of FanFiction net.

**Thank you to the following reviewers of chapter four**: _Ellie Lupin, Black-Rose23, Hotkat144, quiet-mg, Legessa, Caligirl-HPLVR, bethygirl94, sasmith, Jester08, **lave en fusion, hawkeyehellsing, MasqueradeNumberOne**_ and _especially** PiperPaigePhoebe01, Suzy87, mskiti **_and**_ galloping-goose._**

__

_**The Werewolf Tamer**_

_Five_

Remus woke up with a heavy, pounding headache. His entire body ached and his senses were running on high. The smallest noise seemed to ring tenfold in his ears, and the faintest smell made his stomach turn. His body felt like it was on fire and his temples throbbed incessantly with pain. He was incredibly exhausted, but he couldn't sleep at all. He heard Sirius, James, and Peter all talking around him, but he couldn't make out a word for the longest time. Everything sounded gurgled and hollow. He could make out Madam Pomfrey as she passed him potions though, for that he was thankful. He couldn't remember anything from the night before, but he felt an odd sense of peace and feared for what might have fed the beast inside of him. It was only ever happy when it caused destruction, usually to a harmless creature. He wanted to ask, but he was in too much pain and too tired to move his mouth.

And then another voice joined, one that was both familiar and strange to him. Her voice cut through all the rest, and came out clear and precise, stating that the food she had just offered was not there for him and if he so wanted, a simple potion for his overactive senses could dampen his sense of smell and quell his turning stomach. It was that knowledge that shook him, because he hadn't spoken to anyone but his friends and Madam Pomfrey about the nausea and headaches the plagued him. His eyes flew open and found the woman's immediately, while he stared at the figure questioningly. He sat up quickly, and regretted the action almost immediately. What met his senses shocked him thoroughly. He caught her scent and felt the werewolf in him react excitedly, which scared him. He kept trying to figure out how he knew her scent, why it felt so terribly familiar to him.

She moved to kneel in front of him so they were eye to eye and he was quite shocked by how comforting that simple action was. When she smiled at him, his heart did a quick flip flop and his stomach twisted, though not in a bad way, for once. She was quite beautiful and he wasn't sure if he was dreaming or not. Her eyes were a chocolate brown, dark and deep with thought. He didn't have to question her intelligence, he thought it sat quite pointedly in her gaze. Her face was heart shaped and welcoming, with high cheek bones, soft pink lips, and a spatter of freckles across the bridge of her nose. Long, flowing brown hair cascaded down her back in a mass of wild curls and he had the urge to reach out and twist one around his finger. She spoke quietly, her voice intended to be a whisper for his benefit. He latched on to the sweet noise, its melody lulling him into a sense of comfort.

At first, he was sure he was under some sort of spell, and so he felt panicked when she began talking about having another job outside of being a new professor, especially since she had already mentioned knowing he was a werewolf. But when she explained her position on things, her dreams for the future involving werewolves, witches, and wizards alike, he was astonished, and mildly moved. He wanted to take everything she said to heart, to believe in the idea wholly, but he was cautious and unsure. He couldn't lay his life on the line for mere possibility that she could change everything, could he? She offered him time to think about it and even told him she knew of a potion that would give him back his human senses during the full moon instead, if he liked. Then she tried to leave and he hadn't realized he was gripping her hand unwilling to let go.

When she was gone, the three boys around him broke out in conversation. "I don't trust her. I still think we should have _obliviated_ her before she left," Sirius exclaimed, looking perturbed and suspicious at the doors. Madam Pomfrey had gone off somewhere, looking giddy over the fact that the new professor was interested in having a butterbeer with her in Hogsmeade. Whoever she was -he believed she said her name was Hermione- she was making a quick impression on people.

"I like her," James disagreed, though he looked rather surprised by the fact, likely because he and Sirius usually agreed on everything. "I don't know what it is about her, but I get the feeling she's nice. And she wants to help Remus, too. You saw her with him last night, he was like a puppy around her," he said, grinning. He gave Remus a wink, and the young werewolf felt rather embarrassed and worried over how he might have acted. "He was sniffing her hair and jumping around like a giddy little pup. And he didn't harm her in the least, instead trying to save her from you," he reminded Sirius.

The most suspicious of the Marauders heaved a great sigh, "I still don't like it. Don't you think it's just a little bit weird that she appeared out of nowhere, right in front of Remus, and declared herself a Werewolf Tamer?" Sirius asked, incredulously.

"I think she's pretty," Peter said timidly.

Sirius turned and frowned at him, "We're not talking about her looks, Pete, we're talking about whether she's trustworthy. She's asking a lot of Remus and we can't just let her in without thinking about this. What if she's working for You-Know-Who, and she's really scouting for werewolves?" he asked, his brow cocking with question.

James frowned, admitting for a moment that it was a possibility. "I agree it was weird how she showed up, but I don't get the dark vibe from her. She seems nice and I think she has Remus' best interests at heart. Besides, Death Eater or not, I've never seen anyone calm the wolf before. And she acted as though she knew Remus personally, like she was familiar with his wolf side," he pointed out, sounding rather excited.

"Exactly!" Sirius bellowed, rubbing at his jaw and beginning to pace. "I don't like it. She doesn't know us at all and yet she looks at us and speaks to us as though she's known us all her life. Did you see her when she was looking at us? For a minute I felt like she could see what I was thinking and knew everything about me," he told them, shuddering briefly.

James nodded slowly, his brow furrowing. "Yeah, that was a little weird. I got the feeling she knew something about me that even I didn't know," he said, shaking his head with confusion. "I kinda thought she might hug me there for a minute," he admitted, chuckling.

"I didn't see that," Peter added in, his voice quiet compared to James and Sirius'.

"She barely looked at you," Sirius brushed off, still pacing and looking deep in disgruntled thought. "What d'you think Remus?" he asked, picking up a bun and some ham from the platter the two house elves brought them. James, taking his cue to eat, dug into another platter, looking ravenous in his hunger, but watching Remus to hear his assertion of the woman.

Still rather dazed, Remus rubbed his forehead, "She was being honest," he told them, leaning back in bed and letting his head fall on the pillow. "I can usually tell if someone is lying to me, but she was telling the truth. And she obviously knows a lot about werewolves. She was purposely speaking quietly and knew exactly what I'd need, like the potion for my sense of smell. Plus, she held my gaze. A lot of people won't do that when they know what I am," he sounded quite cheery by that declaration and realized he found hope in knowing that she wasn't scared of him. Most would see him as a monster, and frown on his _affliction_, but she met it head on, and wanted to help. "I think... maybe she could really help," he said slowly, sounding uncertain. His hope was taking over and he wasn't sure what he was going to do. While he might agree she could be a good person and likely able to help him, he wasn't sure if he could offer himself up to her project and cause.

"What?" Sirius asked, loud and shocked. "You can't honestly be thinking of just bowing to her will? We don't even know her for bloody sakes!" he exclaimed, his mouth full of food as he paced loudly on the floor.

Remus' hearing was still running on high, so he winced at the sound of his friends shouting.

"Give him some time to think about it Sirius," James told him, looking over at Remus with a quick grin. "It's not everyday that a beautiful professor declares she can give you your heart's desire," he said, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Remus felt heat creep up his neck and looked away from his friend, rolling his eyes. It broke Sirius out of his bad mood however, and after a howl of laughter, he engaged James in a conversation about Quidditch, while filling his stomach with food. Peter stood off to the side, never adding to the conversation, but hanging off of every word James and Sirius said, his expression eager. Remus put an arm over his face, hoping to block out the noise. He was thankful that he had taken the potion for sense of smell, as his stomach wasn't twisting and turning anymore.

A short while later, his three friends dragged themselves to various beds and fell into a loud, fitful sleep. Sirius was immeasurably loud, his snores creating havoc on Remus' senses. He dearly wanted to throw something at him, but that would require leaving the bed, and he simply didn't have the energy for the feat. He had no idea how long he suffered through it, but he felt as though it was ages. He felt ill all over, his body was aching in places he didn't know could ache. Which was when he was given reprieve. He could sense her the second she stepped into the room, not that her boots would have kept her hidden much longer anyway. She was quiet though, didn't call out in her wait for Madam Pomfrey. She took one look at him and then did something most would consider terribly reckless. He watched as she went to Madam Pomfrey's potions, pulling one out after listening for the medi-witch. He felt a small prick of admiration at her Marauder-like behavior. It was quite mischievous of her to go stealing potions from the woman's cabinet. No one dare do so, fearing the wrath she might take out on them. After all, she was who would mend their next mishap.

He noticed that she was careful when she walked to him, her footsteps measured so not to make too much noise. When she knelt beside him, he felt that familiar tug inside of him. There was something so very familiar about her, something he couldn't quite grasp. She reached out, pushing his fringe off his forehead and he relished in the cool feel of her palm against his skin. It was a nice difference from the heat that consumed him. She looked quite adoring now, like she was hurting over his pain. And while he could feel that the werewolf really liked her, he was starting to worry that his human side was beginning to get a small crush on her, too. It would be no good, after all she was his Professor now, and could be his tamer later on. There was an inexplicable trust that he felt as she held the potion out to her, and though Sirius' worries screamed in his mind, he lifted his chin to sip the potion without a care in the world. He felt the urge to touch her while she was leaving, but couldn't be sure if he managed it as the lack of sound finally allowed his exhaustion to take him away.

He awoke hours later, the time was unimportant, as he could clearly see it was very dark out. He realized that he'd likely be staying over night and wondered how his friends felt about that. They would surely want to get back to the Potter's as soon as possible. There was only a few days left of summer hols and nobody wanted to spend them at the school. He turned over onto his side, his body in need of a good stretch. He was tired still, his eyes reminding him of the fact with their stinging. His stomach grumbled though he grimaced at the mere idea of eating. His eyes landed on a thin, shining item on his bedside table then and when he lifted himself up, he found a large chocolate bar staring out at him. His brows rose and his eyes widened as he wondered when his friends went to Hogsmeade. He felt a bit left out over that, but was too happy to see the chocolate to care much. Reaching out, he pulled it open and carefully opened it, hoping the potion on his hearing hadn't yet stopped working. He couldn't hear Sirius, so he assumed the best.

After getting the wrapper off, he broke off a chunk of the milky chocolate bar and placed it on his tongue. He was immediately filled with warmth that went all the way down to his toes. His aches and pains, exhaustion and discomfort all seemed to melt into the background. Chocolate was the only thing he could eat after a full moon, and he was thankful that James or Sirius remembered that. Letting his head fall back on the pillow, he let the flavor and warmth consume him wholly. He no longer felt sad or melancholy, only content. He managed through half the bar before his friends heard the wrapper and made their way over. James stared down at the chocolate bar lying on his chest and licked his lips. He looked as though he had just woken up himself and kept stretching his arms above his head and running his hands through his hair. Sirius was twisting his back to get the knots out of it and rubbing a hand over his face, blinking his eyes rapidly.

"What d'you got there?" he mumbled, staring out at Remus questioningly.

Remus' brow furrowed, "hock-uh-lat," he replied, his mouth filled with the milky good substance.

"I didn't know you brought chocolate, I forgot to," James said, yawning before he plopped down on the end of the bed at Remus' feet. "Ya gonna share it then?" he queried, giving Remus his best winning smile.

Swallowing, Remus looked back and forth between them. "I didn't bring it, I thought you guys did," he said, confused.

"Nope, I forgot too," Sirius added, pulling a chair up and reaching out to try and snag it from his hands.

Remus, knowing he was going to try and get it from him, extended his arm to the side, keeping his chocolate bar out of Sirius' reach. "Maybe Wormtail then..." he said, disbelievingly. It was rare that his other best friend thought of things like chocolate bars to cheer a friend up.

"Maybe I what?" Peter asked, coming around the curtains of the bed beside them and looking out over them curiously.

"Did you bring Mooney the chocolate bar?" Sirius wondered, lifting his brow with question.

"Nope, didn't think of it," he replied, shaking his head and then staring at the chocolate in Remus' hand. "I'd love a piece though," he said eagerly.

"Well if you guys didn't do it then--" He stopped, realization dawning on him quickly. He turned his eyes up to Sirius and then down to James, wondering if they figured it out. Judging by Sirius' scowl and James' grin, they had.

"Told you she was good, Padfoot," James said jovially, stretching his arms out and also trying to grab the chocolate with no result.

"Could be a ploy to gain loyalty," Sirius returned, shaking his head.

"Well then we'll just have to ask her if she gave it to him. If she boasts, we'll know," James said, shrugging and trying to reach for the chocolate again, this time throwing a quick arm out and hoping to scoop it out as though it were a Quaffle waiting to be caught. Remus had seen the gleam in his eyes however, and managed to get it out of his best friend's reach just in time.

"Could've been Madam Pomfrey," Remus said, shrugging lightly. "Or even Dumbledore."

James lifted his brow, "Have they ever left you chocolate?" he wondered.

"Well, no..." he admitted slowly.

"Exactly, Mooney, it was Hermione. Maybe it's a werewolf thing, maybe the only thing any werewolf can eat after a transformation is chocolate," he offered before giving a dramatic pout. "C'mon Mooney, share the chocolate! I'll be your best friend forever!" he told him, grinning with a wink.

Remus snorted, rolling his eyes. "You already are," he reminded, glancing at his chocolate sorrowfully. He didn't want to share, he was really quite selfish when it came to his chocolate. Sighing, he gave in and allowed them to have some, though he took it away before they could finish it all on him.

"We should go flying," Sirius said, looking out the window. "What d'you say Prongs? Mooney, you up to it?"

Remus shook his head, "Not tonight." Reaching out, he grabbed his coat from the chair beside his bed and searched around in the pockets. Pulling out his pocket watch, he checked the time with a furrow his brow and then replaced it. "Are we leaving early tomorrow?" he asked, already beginning to feel drowsy again.

Sirius turned to him from the window, giving him a wide grin. "Yeah, thought we'd visit Diagon Alley before heading back home."

"Mum and dad told us not to, said there was an attack there recently," James told Remus, a chunk of chocolate lodged in his mouth. "I still need to get my books though. Told mum I got them last week, but I got... er... distracted." He sat straighter, lifted his chin and exclaimed with confidence, "This is the year, boys, this is the year that I will finally convince Lily Evans to go on a date with me. It'll only take one, I'm sure of it, before she realizes that she loves me too!"

Sirius scoffed, rolling his eyes at his best mate. "Prongs, mate, you said that last year," he reminded, looking amused.

"And the year before," Remus added, smiling lightly as he closed his eyes, listening to the faint banter of his friends.

"And the year before that," Peter put in, sounding on the verge of laughter.

James sighed at their lack of confidence in them, "Yeah, but that wasn't _this_ year, and this is _the_ year!" he told them, assuredly. "Just you wait and see! I will be Lily Evan's boyfriend and you'll all rue the day-- OW!"

Remus heard the whack and knew that Sirius had hit him with a pillow. Chaos broke out then, and while it was, perhaps, louder than Sirius' snoring, it lulled Remus to sleep. He dreamt of rolling hills, a bright cursed moon, and a pretty brunette crossing her chest with a fist in a sign that somehow told him she was there to protect him. When he woke next it was early morning, though not nearly as early as he had thought it would be. He could hear his friends making a ruckus in the background, and Madam Pomfrey trying to hush them. By the noise, he figured James an Sirius were playing Exploding Snap. Feeling well rested and far from weary, he got out of bed and dressed quickly, feeling as though he could take a long run. He felt like bouncing back and forth on his feet but quelled the giddiness, before grabbing the last of his chocolate off the bedside table and popping a chunk in his mouth. It wasn't a healthy morning snack, but it was far too enticing not to.

Coming out from behind the curtains, Remus walked over to see how his friends were doing. Sirius threw a card at James and laughed uproariously as it exploded, catching the end of James' shirt, burning it quickly. James threw one back and snickered as Sirius' fringe was singed on one side, which he took great offense to. Peter laughed to himself, clear from the barrage of cards and simply enjoying himself with the show. Remus smiled at the display, finding comfort in the regularity of his friends. When they ran out of cards, they stood up and greeted Remus with a hearty 'good morning'. They told him they'd already eaten and whenever he wanted to leave, they could go through Dumbledore's floo-connected fireplace. Not interested in hanging around the empty school, Remus agreed to go immediately.

On their way to the Headmaster's office, they passed the DADA classroom and Remus noticed Sirius' suspicious expression. James paid him no heed and quickly caught his attention with a prank he planned for the Welcoming Feast. Remus found himself staring at the closed classroom doors and wondering if she was inside. He wasn't sure what he was going to do. He wanted to talk to her more about the potion she had offered to him. He wasn't sure if he was ready to work on her project yet. He felt a wave of annoyance with himself come over him and wondered where his Gryffindor pride had disappeared to. Before he knew it, they were all standing in front of the gargoyle keeping them from Dumbledore's office, having forgotten to ask for the password.

"It's gotta be a sweet," James said, tapping his chin and furrowing his brow. "Cockroach Cluster," he tried, staring at it expectantly.

"Canary Cream," Sirius exclaimed, staring at the unmoving statue.

"Uh, Fizzing Whizbees," Peter offered, looking quite upset when it didn't work out for him.

"Ice Mice," Remus tried with a shrug.

"Chocolate Frogs," James tried, already looking bored. He had quite the short attention span and began throwing his Snitch up in the air randomly and catching it.

"Fudge Flies," Sirius tried, looking frustrated.

"Lemon Drop," called an amused voice from behind them. The four Marauders turned to find Dumbledore staring down at them, faint amusement in his face. "Feeling better I see, Mr. Lupin. Yes, Madam Pomfrey assured me that you were in tip top shape when last she checked," he informed them, walking onto the stairs now winding up to his office. "Professor Granger expressed that with your injuries at a minimum and your senses on low, you would be up and around by eight this morning." He grinned after saying this, "D'you happen to know the time then, Mr. Lupin?" he queried.

"Nearly eight thirty, sir," he replied, glancing over at the other three Marauders with a confused expression.

"She really knows her stuff about werewolves," James said, smiling as he shrugged off the odd occurrence of their DADA teacher knowing Remus' recovery so well.

"That she does," Dumbledore agreed, smiling kindly as it moved to sit behind his desk. "Can I help you boys with anything, or will you just be using the fireplace today?" he wondered knowingly.

Remus felt as though questions were waiting to spill out of his mouth and had to force them back, so not to seem anxious. Sirius, on the other hand, was ready to grill Dumbledore as if he had the key to winning the Quidditch cup. He took a quick jump forward and then said, rather forcefully, "She's a little young to be a professor and how does she know all about werewolves? Where did she come from, because she appeared out of nowhere when we met her!?! There is no such thing as The Werewolf Project, we would know about it! And how did she know about the chocolate, is it a werewolf thing? 'Cause I thought it was just a Remus thing! How do we know she's not dangerous? She could be working for You-Know-Who!" he said in a rush. He was quite breathless by the end of his speech and Remus didn't know what to say in reply. He felt the inexplicable need to defend her and didn't know what to think of that.

James shook his head at his best friend, but shrugged it off as though it were a natural Sirius thing, that couldn't be helped. He turned to Dumbledore, seeing what he was going to say about it, but didn't look the least bit worried. James had that way about him, of being quite calm when everybody else was hysterical. Remus realized it was actually because he got bored easily and his attention never really stayed on one topic. He could lose his temper when goaded, and he wasn't as offhanded or calm when it came to a certain red head. But the state of calm he was showing now was just a normal show of boredom, which was proven by the way he fiddled with the Snitch in his hand.

Remus turned his eyes on Dumbledore, truly wanting to know if he would defend the new professor and finding himself hoping that he would have some kind of proof that she was good. Perhaps it was that she had given him hope for the future, that he could one day become accepted. Then again, it could be that the werewolf inside of him seemed to take a real shining to her. And of course, maybe, he in his regular form liked her too. He didn't know her well enough to judge, but he could tell quite easily that whoever she was and whatever her plans entailed, they would be entwined with good and not evil.

"Mr. Black, while I feel that I don't have to explain my reasons for hiring Professor Granger to you, I will," he replied, leaning forward and placing his clasped hands on the table. "I do this for your benefit only, as I can see that you are quite fearful of what her being here means." He stared out at them calmly, his blue eyes twinkling behind his half moon glasses. "First of all, Hermione is twenty three and she graduated from her school with top marks. She was Headgirl, had the best marks in her school, and was considered the brightest of her age. And I don't mean that lightly," he told them seriously. "She was given the Order of Merlin, First Class when she was just twenty years old and has been an avid fighter in the outbreak of war that has been going on around us. She was trained as an Auror upon leaving school, but left the Ministry because she felt it was... too corrupt," he informed them. Sirius' eyes were wide with astonishment and Remus was sure his own expression was much alike.

She sounded quite remarkable. While he had high grades himself and James had made Headboy, Dumbledore spoke of Hermione as though she were truly magnificent. He had seen it in her eyes himself, that she possessed a knowledge that few could attain. An Order of Merlin on top of everything though, and at the young age of twenty, that was quite a feat. He wondered about Dumbledore's assertion of Hermione's belief that the Ministry was too corrupt for her, and realized that even now, on the brink of war, the Ministry refused to admit it. For a woman who had achieved so much, and had so many dreams, it only seemed right for her to take issue with the way the Ministry was being run. They were supposed to look out for the welfare of others, but instead were hindering it. He had a new reason to admire the woman, and wondered if it was just a fleeting fancy he had with her that caused it.

"As for her understanding of werewolves, I will tell you what I know. After graduating from school, she found a goal. Upon realizing that werewolves were going to be drawn in by Voldemort simply because the world does not accept them, Hermione decided to do the opposite. A close friend of hers was a werewolf and she gained his help in the project. She gave him half of the Wolfsbane potion she knows of, that way he would still act as a werewolf but have enough human sense to remember and speak to her. From there, her and her friend branched out, offering the possibility to others. They gained a large resistance and many of Voldemort's followers were taken from him, which angered him greatly," he explained.

Remus wondered if her friend would be joining her soon in working on her program and suddenly worried over his being male, and perhaps even with Hermione. He felt a jab of jealousy and queried over it a moment. The arrival of Professor Granger was causing severe mental problems to him. Between being offered a chance at a new life and gaining an interest in his new professor, Remus felt as though his life had been turned literally on its head. At least some part of him had come to grips with the fact that there was really no hope, and then she showed up one day and offered him a real future. It was like a dream, and he was scared he'd suddenly wake up. She had offered him such fanciful things: control, equality, and his dignity. He couldn't begin to show his gratitude, if only it turned out the way he hoped.

"I assure you, her project is real and she aims to make control a possibility for all werewolves. I suggested Mr. Lupin to her, if that is your worry. Though she already knew enough about him. From what I can tell, she makes sure she knows her partners before taking them on, which explains her knowledge of Mr. Lupin's love for chocolate. It is with great care and caution that she does her work, that way she doesn't make a mistake in showing the _wrong_ person." His expression was rather hard and Remus got the impression that Dumbledore was somewhat angered over the fact that anyone would dare speak ill of the new Professor. He found himself questioning such respect the Headmaster had, as he seemed to be a man of severe loyalty, though only to those who deserve it.

Dumbledore sighed then, before saying, "Now as for how she arrived, I believe that is up to Professor Granger to explain to you. The circumstances of what brought her here are private affairs and I don't wish to speak of them for her. And so, in summary, as your Headmaster, I believe I've given sufficient reason for you to believe me when I firmly tell you that she is _not_ in league with Voldemort but here as reputable and capable professor of DADA." He paused then before unclasping his hands and stroking his beard, "And as a man who has known you for six long years now, I give you my full and complete honesty when I tell you that I would trust my life to Hermione. She is quite unlike anyone I've met. And I believe, given the chance, you will learn that she is not only worthy of your trust, but an equal in all that you'll survive in the coming years," he said, with a wiseness to his words only he could apply.

Sirius didn't speak and he didn't make any indication whether he agreed, understood, or accepted what Dumbledore had to say. Instead, he asked to be excused, received an affirmative and walked to the fireplace, with Peter by his side, to floo away. James, noticing that everybody was leaving, threw his Snitch up in the air, caught it, and then left for the fireplace. Remus waited until his friends were gone, before turning his attention to Dumbledore once more, "Is she here, sir?" he queried.

"I'm afraid, Mr. Lupin, that Professor Granger has gone to the Scottish Ministry this morning," he told him, smiling lightly.

"Really?" he replied quietly, more of questioning himself as he wondered over the reason.

"Yes, there is a young man there, only a year older than you. A werewolf who has gotten himself into a bit of trouble. She's gone to ask the court to release him into her custody so she may give him the same gift she offered to you," he explained.

"Does she know him? I mean to say, is that why she goes to ask for his freedom?" Remus questioned, his brow lifting as he thought of the oddity of the young woman asking the Scottish Ministry to free a boy who had committed a crime.

"He doesn't know her at all," Dumbledore replied, sounding quite amused. "He's never met her, never even heard of her or her program. And soon, she'll be on her way to Romania, to see a clan leader about his involvement in the project. A fierce man, who's very private about his affairs and protective over his clan. She needs a safe word to get in and won't allow anybody but herself to go. She doesn't want anybody to run the risk of being harmed," Dumbledore informed him kindly.

"She's really doing it then," Remus responded softly, his voice shaking. "She's trying to change it for all of us. She's..." He inhaled a wobbly breath, "I never thought... I mean, I know there are people who don't agree with the laws, but they're all family of werewolves, or werewolves themselves. And she isn't, not really. She had that friend you mentioned though, so I guess that could encourage it." He couldn't really understand the way of it. She wasn't a werewolf herself, so what gave her the idea that she needed to save them? Why wasn't she scared like everyone else? What gave her the courage to stand in front of a werewolf and believe that she could live to speak about it, let alone learn its ways?

Dumbledore interrupted his thoughts, leaning forward and staring at him with a penetrating gaze, "Something I've found out about Professor Granger, Remus, is that when there is a cause, she puts all of herself into it. It's not about her, and not really about those close to her. It's about changing the world for the whole of people and knowing that when a difference could be made, she made it."

Remus stared at the Headmaster, gathering the strong words and giving a short nod. "I should probably go meet my friends, but... when she gets back, could you tell her that I'd like to speak with her after the Welcoming Feast, if that's all right," he said, feeling nervous.

"Of course, Mr. Lupin, I'll pass the message on as soon as she gets back." He smiled at Remus, looking quite pleased.

"Thank you, sir." After bidding farewell, Remus floo'ed to Diagon Alley, where he knew Sirius, James, and Peter were waiting for him. Upon arrival, he found Sirius in a foul mood, James distracted, and Peter looking uncomfortable. "Ready to get your books then, Prongs?" he asked, staring at James and hoping things would lighten up.

Grinning, James nodded, walking out towards the Alley before he turned toward Sirius. "So, Padfoot my friend, who do you have your eye on this year?" he queried, referring to Sirius' widespread taste in girlfriends each week.

At first, Sirius didn't look as though he was going to answer, but a moment later his face had broken out in a huge grin. "Well, there's this pretty little blonde in Ravenclaw that..."

The rest of the morning and late into the afternoon, the four Marauders enjoyed the shops of Diagon Alley. Shopping, eating, and just plain horsing around, Remus had to admit he was rather dreading returning to his studies. The carefree manner in which his life took when he was with Sirius and James made responsibility feel like a curse best forgotten. He could see them up ahead a bit, purposely doing things to bother one another. Sirius would flick James' ear, or James would purposely step on Sirius' foot, all in good fun. They were like brothers really, and while Remus wasn't as close as they were, he had a place with them. He looked around to see where Peter had gone off to and found him at a sweets shop, salivating over the candy shelves. Remus followed Sirius and James instead, finding them to be the more interesting of sides. He had nothing against Peter, he was one of his best mates, he just happened to be rather quiet, and when with Sirius or James, quiet means you're never heard.

"Eh, Remus," Sirius called back, waving him over and grinning excitedly. When he reached his friend, Sirius threw his arm around his shoulders, weighing him in close and nodding his head at the joke shop. "I'm thinking we need to pick up a little ammo. This is our last year, our last Welcoming Feast, we have to go out with a bang!" he exclaimed, laughing uproariously.

James grinned at them, his hazel eyes sparkling with mischief. "We already had a few things planned, Padfoot, what else d'you propose?" he said, anxiously.

Sirius looked back and forth between them, drawing out the moment before he finally told them his idea. They stared at him a moment before breakout in agreeable smirks. Peter found his way over, arms layered with sweets and smiled contentedly. "Any more shopping left, Prongs, or can we go home?" Sirius wondered, sounding exasperated. "You're just like a girl when it involves shopping!" he declared.

"Am not!" James replied, frowning, though his eyes were still bright with amusement. "I'm not the one who lays his clothes out the night before, or spends an hour trying to make his hair right," he accused triumphantly.

"No, you just run your hands through your hair until you have it just the way you like it, which you do _all day long_," Remus said, smiling.

"I'm surprised you noticed, Mooney, what with your head inside books ninety percent of the time," Sirius commented, lifting his hand and ruffling Remus' hair with it.

"You might want to try it some time, Padfoot, you might learn something. You do now _how_ to read, don't you?" Remus replied, trying to smooth his hair down from the mess Sirius made of it.

"Are we going back to James' yet?" Peter whined, looking bored, "Mrs. Potter said she'd have treacle tarts made," he told them happily.

"You're always thinking with your stomach, Wormtail," Sirius said, bumping into the boy who then had to scramble down to drop his sweets.

"Like you're any different, Padfoot, you're always eating," James replied, reaching over Remus and pushing his friend.

Sirius turned to grin at him before dramatically clutching his side and shouting, "STITCH! STITCH!" He stumbled a bit before hopping up, throwing his arm around James' neck and crying out, "Carry me Jamesie, I can't make it any further!"

James laughed before turning to Remus and saying, "I say we leave him, how 'bout you Mooney?"

"He'll only be a hindrance," Remus agreed, nodding jovially. "We could drop him in that alley over there, I'm sure somebody will take care of a mangy, lost dog."

Scoffing, Sirius straightened up and turned his nose up in the air with faux-haughtiness. "I'll have you know, there is no mange on me!" he told them, glaring, before breaking out in a grin that had a few girls near by almost swooning.

"Fleas then. Somebody will take care of the _flea_ ridden, lost dog," Remus corrected, nodding.

"They're not _that_ bad," Sirius replied, shaking his head before he leapt up and climbed on Remus' back. "I told you to give me a flea bath Mooney, and you refused, so in turn, it's _your _fault."

"No..." Remus drew out, making a show of acting as though Sirius was terribly heavy and weighing him down. "It's your own fault for rolling around in dirty things and never taking the time to bathe in your animagus form," he reminded.

Sirius sighed, rolling his eyes and ruffling Remus' hair before hopping back down to walk on his own two feet. "My own best friends won't even give me a flea bath," he said mournfully.

"If you'll remember, we gave you a bath that one time, and you nearly drowned us all," James reminded, running his hand up the back of his head, messing up his hair.

"You deserved it," Sirius replied, shrugging. "You were using scented soap," he said, as if it were the most repulsive thing. "I was going to smell like flowers and lavender, I couldn't let it happen!" he exclaimed, shaking his head vigorously.

They laughed loudly, thinking back to the memory as they walked down the alley. After flooing back to the Potter's house, Sirius and James disappeared upstairs and Peter made his way to the kitchen. Remus decided to take a break out on the porch, hoping the quiet would put his thoughts in order. So much had happened in such a short time, and there was certainly more to come. Remus had forced what Dumbledore had talked to him about out of his mind, at least until he had some time to himself. He wasn't sure if he was really ready to accept the fact that he could be controllable. He wanted to, it seemed like such an incredible possibility. He realized that if he didn't grasp the opportunity, it could pass him by. And gathering his Gryffindor courage, he made a decision. It may not work out, it may not be all that he hoped, and he might not turn out to be as tamed as Hermione thought, but it would be worth the risk. If he could one day live in a world where he didn't have to wake up, look in the mirror, and think the eyes of a monster were staring back, then it was all worth it. He would not be a monster any longer.

* * *

**A/N **_I hope you enjoyed this chapter. The next will have Brighton in it and will be written from Hermione's POV. Thanks for reading, please review._

_Much Love,  
-**Amanda**_


	7. Six

**Review offering insight to the story**:

"_It's official. I love you. Your writing skills are completely amazing, and you always know how to use the correct word, the right sentence, the right way of portraying everything. Everything, though serious, seems light and airy, and I have no trouble at all getting through a chapter. You can switch from Hermione to Remus easily, so easily it feels seamless. You could write stories from anybody's POV, and you could rival J.K. Rowling in description, plot, originality...everything. I love the way you portray the Marauders, having Peter be a part of it, yet not, exactly like I thought it would be. I am glad you really delved deep into the werewolf aspect of it. I don't know what else to say - your writing makes me want to come back for more. Not many authors can carry on so many different stories, and yours are so different, yet so alike. I love how this is so different from your other ones, yet the same. Absolutely amazing. I love your writing so much_." - **_PiperPaigePhoebe01 _**of FanFiction net.

**Thank you to the following reviewers**: _Hotkat144, Jester08, Smelly, Dizi85, Ellie Siri Black, Black-Rose23, bethygirl94, nelygirl, untamedspiral, bronte, **Suzy87, Angelic Bladez, mskiti (Tabi), MasqueradeNumberOne**_ and _especially** PiperPaigePhoebe01, Sampdoria, The Almighty Cheez It**_ and _**galloping-goose.**_

_**The Werewolf Tamer**_

_Six_

Hermione spent another long night in her lumpy school issued bed, feeling out of sorts and anxious. She only made it through half the night before her nightmarish memory woke her, leaving her sweaty, shaken, and panting for air. It was always clear and played out just like it had in real life, scaring her into thinking she truly was reliving it. She considered Dreamless Draughts, but couldn't make herself push Remus from her mind. She wanted to remember, in some bleak and self torturous way. If she remembered what brought her to where she was, perhaps she'd stay on task. She wouldn't lose focus of what could be; she'd know that the lives lost would have a new chance, a better chance. Remus, even if he never grew to be the man Hermione loved, would have a good life. She could handle that, she assured herself. She had to.

Unable to get to sleep again, she instead spent more time on the coming year's Defense Against the Dark Arts curriculum. She'd spent a long while working on the calender during the day and finally got it to just her liking. A simple sentence showed only her the hidden information she needed, "_It was the best of times, it was the worst of times_," quoting Charles Dickens, "**A Tale Of Two Cities**". She got the idea from the Marauders Map, which she had thoughtfully brought along. It hadn't been used in quite some time, but Harry kept it out of recognition of his father and godfather. After his passing, she had taken it for her own reminder, since Ron really wasn't much of a sentimentalist.

Sighing, she made her way into her common area and then crossed through to the portrait door to her office. Dressed in her nightgown and Remus' dragging robe, she pulled out a thick book that she wrote every lesson inside and opened it to where she last left off. Dipping her gold quill into the ink waiting to be used, she thought back to all that she had learned in her classes, and all that she thought they should be learning. Most of her professors had been capable enough, one more so than others, and while she took from their lessons, she also thought there was an education she had received from her own reading, and Harry's later teachings, that should have been given to the whole school. By the time morning sprung upon her, she was fully satisfied that she had a great curriculum set for her students. Casting a drying spell on the last page she had written, she rose from her seat and left to her room to change. She had a busy day ahead of her.

Making her way to Dumbledore's office, Hermione held the thick book beneath one arm and a small carrying bag in the other. A cloak hung around her shoulders, billowing rather dramatically in her quick pace. Giving the password to the gargoyle, she stepped onto the winding stairs and in a short moment she was knocking on Albus' door and waiting for his greeting. Hearing his loud voice call out, she made her way inside and smiled lightly at the man feeding his phoenix, still looking quite tired. His hair was mussed as though he had just risen and hadn't remembered to brush it, which Hermine found quite endearing. He reminded her so much of her grandpa that her smile turned watery. He was so natural around her and she was rather surprised by how different her friend here could be from the Headmaster she'd known in her past.

"Good morning, my dear. I'd offer you a Lemon Drop, but it's quite early, and I'm sure you wouldn't want to spoil your breakfast," he greeted, walking from Fawkes to his desk and taking a seat. He waved to the chairs in front of him, asking her to seat herself.

Shaking her head, Hermione made her way to stand in front of his desk, holding out the heavy tome of hers and explaining, "It's my curriculum. I wrote it up earlier and I hope you'll be quite satisfied with it." She felt rather worried about it. What if it wasn't up to standards? What if she spelled something wrong? What if it wasn't written to his liking or if he preferred it in a roll of parchment, rather than a book? What if it was too large? Or too advanced for certain years? She fidgeted, her hands fiddling with each other anxiously.

Albus gave her a warm smile, "I'm sure I will," he said simply. "Now, are you off to the Scottish Ministry then?" he queried, motioning to her handbag.

"I am," she replied with a short nod. "I believe I'll be away until supper, perhaps later. I'm not sure how long it will take to speak to someone on his behalf and I'm uncertain whether he'll even want to join." She sighed, feeling dejected. "Y'see, Brighton, he was one of my first partners in the project. He and Remus were very close, good friends. And he was there with me, guiding me along through it all. After Remus was killed... well, he never left my side. He was the one who thought I should be given time to grieve. He always had something very insightful to say. Half the time it was his own wit and intelligence, the other half a quote from a genius he'd been reading on. He quite liked Buddha," she told him, looking wistful. "He did warn me though, that during this time he was quite rebellious. He had come to terms with his being a werewolf, but was sure that society would never accept him. So he lashed out at everyone and everything around him. The werewolves he was with were trouble makers, havoc inducing, and simply loved destruction. They later became part of Voldemort's army and he sent them out to take the brunt of the attack." She frowned, knowing that lives were going to be sacrificed and sometimes there wasn't anything she could do. She'd help Brighton, but what of the other werewolves in his position?

"And you hope to save Brighton from becoming too radical in his early years and learning from you that there's hope for him yet," he asked, smiling at her.

"Yes," she replied softly, nodding slowly. "As long as I'm alive, I'll give them their hope. They deserve it, everybody does. Mine has faltered, but I can't let theirs die."

"Hermione," Albus said, sounding faint and worried. He sat up, staring at her with eyes that spoke wonders of familiarity even though he'd known her only a day or two. "It seems to me, that a person who lacks hope, can't infuse it as well as she might. If yours is lost, then shouldn't you search it out before instilling it in others?"

"My hope, Albus, died with my husband. I don't believe searching is necessary or possible. However, I do believe that hope can be given to a person. It can be nurtured and bred to keep a person going and in search of a future they deserve." She paused, shaking her head. "I have a goal that I must reach. I feel a mockery of hope inside of me, it's what keeps me going." She paused, searching for the right words. Her brow furrowed in concentration, trying to weave through her thoughts and understanding of her herself. "It's as though I'm filled with hope for the people I see around me, but the knowledge I possess keeps it from reaching what I once had. I don't believe I have hope, but I do believe that I have courage and initiative. I will see this through to my end, and perhaps even farther." She licked her lips in thought before explaining the calendar to him and telling him of the way to activate it. She then added that additional information was stored away in her bedroom dresser, in the left side drawer.

Turned away from her beliefs on hope, Albus became intrigued by her helpful time line. "It's quite brilliant, Hermione, I do applaud you."

Shaking her head, Hermione blushed lightly. "Oh no, I couldn't take all the credit. I was inspired by a map that was made by the Marauders actually. They're really quite remarkable," she praised.

Nodding, Dumbledore agreed. "So you're off then?" he wondered.

"Yes, perhaps later I'll show you the calendar and you can give it a try," she offered before walking toward the fireplace.

"Hermione," he called, sounding mildly suspicious. "Is the reason you're sharing the secret with your calendar because you fear one day you won't be here to finish your goal?" he asked, his face falling with understanding.

She stared sagely at him, "In the words of Felix Adler, told to me by my faithful friend Brighton," she began, her hand full of the flooing powder. "_Religion is a wizard, a sibyl... She faces the wreck of worlds, and prophecies restoration. She faces a sky blood-red with sunset colours that deepens into darkness, and prophesies dawn. She faces death, and prophesies life_." Before he could reply, she left him with a short nod and disappeared into the green flames around her.

Her arrival to the Ministry of Scotland was surprising. She found herself in an area that was completely empty, so much so that she could hear the whistle of the wind from a far window. It looked much like that of the British Ministry, and she found herself checking her wand with a half-asleep guard wizard. He looked surprised to see someone there so early, and after wiping the drool from his chin from his nodding off, he told her to have a nice day and motioned for her to go on. Examining a board that was written in fancy scrawl, she tried to figure out who it was she should speak to. She decided to go down to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and speak to whoever was in charge. After taking an elevator down, she waited patiently at a desk where a young woman looked at her with annoyance for having to do anything so early in the morning.

After a long while of loitering around the office, waiting to be beckoned to an office to discuss Brighton, she was finally answered. A man who couldn't be more than twenty and covered in bright freckles came out to see her, his expression unpleasant. "Mornin' ma'am, I'm Augustus Sinclair, how can I help you?" he asked, sounding quite bored.

He was tall, looming over her by nearly a foot. His shoulders were wide and his neck thick, while the rest of him seemed hard and strict. His expression bordered on vicious and she assumed it was because he met people daily who weren't going to show him any sort of kindness. She'd seen it enough in her line of work, both as an Auror and as an Order member. His hair was bright red, cut quite short and prone to curl in random parts. The colour of his hair and his freckles reminded her briefly of the Weasley's, though everything else struck her as the complete opposite of the friendly family.

"I'm here to speak to someone about Brighton Louis, he's around eighteen and he was brought in recently," she replied, getting straight to the point.

"Yes, I've been told you aren't family though, so I need to know why you need the information," he responded, his arms lifting and crossing across his broad chest, as though he were trying to intimidate her into leaving.

Unimpressed by his scare tactic, she pursed her lips at him in annoyance and straightened her back. "I'm not," she said shortly. "I am, however, here to see to his release from here." Her expression hardened as he stared at her speculatively.

"You're a lawyer then?" he queried, his brow cocking.

"No, I'm a professor at Hogwarts," she said dismissively. "But I run a program that reaches out to people like Brighton," she said, vaguely.

He stared at her, waiting for her to elaborate.

Hermione sighed, exasperated. "Are you capable of releasing Mr. Louis to my care, or must I speak to someone else?" she asked icily. "Because if you have no power over the matter, I'd like to speak to someone more adept."

He scowled at her inappreciatively. "I'm as good as you're going to get until I have reason to believe you need to speak to someone higher up," he replied coldly.

Hermione's expression turned harsh and she barely reigned in the urge to hex him right there. "I'm only going to say this one, Mr. Sinclair, so listen carefully. My name is Hermione Granger, I run a program that can positively return control to werewolves. I learn their ways, speak their language, and teach them how to control the need to rip the jugular out of uptight little jerks like you, who likely feel the need to hunt them. Now, I have reason to believe that Brighton Louis could be contained under my watch, and I believe that given the opportunity, I can revert him from his havoc causing ways. If it's bail you're looking for to get the boy out, say the word. Are we finished here, may I speak to someone else?" she asked, her mouth set in a dark grimace.

He watched her throughout her whole spiel, his expression barely concealed. "Werewolves? You can speak to them, control them even?" he asked, looking rather excited.

"I believe I just said I could," she replied exasperated.

He nodded, immediately covering his interest. "Yes, of course, ma'am. It was just a shock," he returned, turning to glance over his shoulder. "Come with me," he said shortly, before walking across the way to an office and knocking loudly.

"What's it?" a burly, gruff voice called out.

"Sinclair. I have someone who needs to speak to you, sir," he replied, his shoulders straightening though the man couldn't see him.

Hermione waited to be let inside and then followed the young man, her eyes set forward as she waited to see the man in charge. He was older, balding on top, and had a heavy gut. His face was lined with both scars and wrinkles, and his expression was fierce. He scowled at her right off the bat. "What's yer name and state yer business?" he told her glibly.

"Hermione Granger, and I'm here to retrieve Brighton Louis," she responded, lifting her brow as he looked to be trying to stare her into meek discomfort.

He stroked his large chin, lifting his bushy grey eyebrows a few times before he said, "Louis, eh? Yeh sure you want to be doin' that? He's quite the handful. A real trouble maker, that one is," he said, his voice low and growly.

"Given proper training and the opportunity I have for him, he'll be the perfect gentleman," she told him, nodding. She remembered her friend easily, and couldn't put the assessment the man told her of Brighton to the man she knew in any way. He was only a handful in his werewolf form, and that was because he acted as though a small child let loose in a sweets shop.

"What opportunity?" he asked, sounding as though he were shouting.

"Sir, Mrs. Granger runs a program involving werewolves. She can... she can speak to them, sir. Teach them how to reign in their need to attack," he told his superior, sounding quite excited by what he was saying.

Hermione hardly hid her smile at the man's enthusiasm. She hoped others would be so accepting, but knew many wouldn't. "It's called The Werewolf Project and I've been working on it for a number of years. I can positively claim that I can revert Brighton from the troublesome boy he is, both on the full moon and after it, to a good, smart, nice person. Of course, to do that, I'll need him stripped of all charges and placed in my care," she told them both, her voice more like an order than she knew.

He laughed, loud and boisterous, it rang off the walls. He was getting red in the face, he was so amused. He kept starting sentences and then cutting himself off with chuckles and snorts. The man beside her was turning red for another reason, he obviously just realized what she spoke of seemed ridiculous and was embarrassed he sounded so enthusiastic when it came up. "Uh, sir..." he tried to interrupt.

Sighing with annoyance, Hermione lifted her wand and cast a silencing charm on the man in front of her before anybody could react. "While you're being so outwardly courteous to my news, _sir_," she spat, "I simply had to interrupt. Y'see, I'm really in quite a hurry and would like to see this through as quickly as possible. I have my research with me if you'd like to see, though the names have been disillusioned as I don't think you should be privy to such personal knowledge. I also have the backing of my Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, and I have a safe place to take Brighton while I teach him the ways of a controlled werewolf."

The man stewing behind his desk glared at her shrewdly, motioning with his wand to take off the silencing charm on him. "Mrs. Granger," he said, and she nearly corrected him by saying, 'Lupin,' but managed to bite her tongue. "What yer saying has never been heard off."

"To be frank, sir, in the Muggle world, real live werewolves have never been heard of. Real magic has never been heard of. We live in a world where nearly anything is possible, do you deny that?" she asked, staring him square in the eye. "I have the ability to train werewolves, it is something I've honed for six years. Brighton Louis is someone I believe will become an asset in my program." She straightened her shoulders, looking down at him with determination. "Make no mistake, I won't leave here until I have that boy by my side and his record cleaned. If you kick me out, I'll be back tomorrow, and the day after, and so on," she vowed, lifting a warning brow.

He grumbled under his breath about the impossibility and then leaned back in his chair, his hands clasped over his large stomach. "It'll take doin'..." he muttered, shaking his head and throwing her a good glare.

"I have all day," she replied, shrugging primly.

Hours later, with lunch on the horizon, Hermione was shown to the holding cell where Brighton resided. He had no idea what had been happening for him and was shocked when an Auror opened the cell and announced, "Brighton Louis, under the advisement of the Scottish Ministry and the Wizengamot, you have been cleared of all charges in the event that you complete Professor Granger's program. You will be released unto her care and all of your indiscretions will be noted by her and only her. If you leave the program before you've been given the go-ahead from Professor Granger, then you will return to this cell and all charges will be recharged. You, Mr. Louis are a lucky and free man."

Brighton stood shocked and confused, his eyes staring at Hermione with wary hope. "Uh... I... I don't... Wh-- Who are you?" he wondered, his question meaning more than it asked.

"I'm someone who is going to offer you a wonderful possibility, Brighton," she replied, holding her hand out for him to take. "But first, how about a nice lunch? Your first as a _free_ man," she said, smiling lightly. He looked so familiar, even twenty years younger. A few scars less, his form not as strong, and his eyes less wise. He also felt jittery, like he was waiting for something to jump out from the shadows. The Brighton she knew never feared the shadows, but fought them diligently. He took her hand, his own calloused and shaking.

They left the building, her filled with a sense of triumph. He led her to a nice restaurant down the way, since she had no idea where she really was, let alone how to navigate the area. He kept throwing her uncertain glances as his eyes moved over the menu, as though he wasn't sure if he should simply get water so not to be a bother. "Order whatever you like," she offered easily, giving a shrug. "A first meal should be memorable, shouldn't it?"

"Yes," he replied meekly. "I... erm... I don't know how to repay you."

Setting her menu down, Hermione sighed, her hands tightening around each other as they clasped atop the table. "You will repay me by becoming a good man and living a life of secure equality," she told him, the full weight of her words seemed to sit on his shoulders, because they slumped.

"I don't... I can't possibly _do_ that," he told her, his expression becoming haunted. "Look, lady, I don't know why you helped me or how you know me, but... but I'm not like other boys, all right? I'm not some regular kid who made a mistake or anything. I'm... I'm a-a-a monster. I--"

"No," she interrupted, her voice hard and forceful. "You are _not_ a monster and I won't allow you to speak of yourself that way." She made sure not to speak loud enough for others to hear and cast her gaze around just in case she had gotten too loud. When she found there was no one paying attention, she turned her eyes back to his, only to find his were filling with tears. "Brighton," she said, softly, her voice reaching out to him. "You are a werewolf _one_ night of the month." His eyes widened and lifted to hers in shock and worry.

"Are... Are you--" He stopped when she shook her head.

"No, I'm not. But my friends are, a lot of them," she said quietly. "And my husband was," she added, hating the last word. "I run a program, it's called The Werewolf Project, and it helps werewolves learn control." Inhaling deeply, she explained the logistics behind it. She explained about the Wolfsbane potion, though she didn't tell him how it _became_ less potent, but how she knew it _would_. She told him of how she had already had every werewolf she had worked with become a controlled person. There was a language they spoke, one that she could speak to them, to teach them to learn control. They wouldn't attack unless provoked and they would no longer hurt themselves, but become free. She couldn't promise that society would accept them right away, but she vowed that she wouldn't stop until they did. By the end, his eyes were damp from hope rather than fear and disgust with himself. "I can give you what you've always wanted."

He stared at her, his expression still not quite sure if should believe. "I... I want to, I really do. But... the idea... the hope is just so... so big that I'm worried I can't... What if it doesn't work for me? Or if I learn it, but nothing changes?" he asked, his breathing picking up.

"I _know_ you'll learn it. I know that you'll become all that I think you will. You will be an intelligent, nice, friendly man. And if the world doesn't accept it, then it is by no fault of yours. It is their pig headed, callous fears that keep them from knowing you," she told him passionately. "Don't learn it for them though, Brighton, learn it for yourself." Their food had come and gone, their discussion long and winded. She wanted him to know the ins and outs, to really understand it all. "I can't force you. I know the Ministry said I could, but I want you to decide. I won't make your future for you, Brighton. If you don't want it now, then maybe in a few years," she smiled lightly at the thought. Turning, she opened her handbag and pulled out a small new book before handing it to him.

"The Wise Word of Buddha," he read aloud, looking skeptical.

"Read it," she told him, nodding shortly. "Perhaps you'll gain some wisdom and an understanding of the world that's been missing." Rising from her seat, she dropped a small velvet bag with enough money to tide him over for awhile and held out her hand. "It was lovely meeting you, Brighton, and I hope to see you in the near future. If you ever need me, I'll be at Hogwarts for the next year. After that, just send an owl to the Headmaster and he can send it over to me."

She swallowed, not wanting to walk away from him. "If you choose not to take me up on my offer, then at least remember that the world is yours. The future is yours to create, the path you take is your decision. And, in the words of Buddha, '_It is better to conquer yourself than to win a thousand battles. Then the victory is yours. It cannot be taken from you, not by angels or demons, heaven or hell_.' I will be waiting for you when you make that choice," she told him, before walking from the table and leaving the restaurant.

Taking some time to come to grips with what had just occurred, Hermione took a long walk around the city she was in. She found herself sitting atop a rolling green hill, cabins so far in the distance they appeared as small dots in her vision. The air was rather cool and damp around her, but she held her own against it. Turning her eyes up to the sky, she said, "D'you think he'll come to me, Remus?" She knew there wouldn't be an answer, but damned if she didn't hope there would be. "Brighton's a smart boy, he'll make the right choice." She nodded shortly, sniffling as her eyes filled. "D'you think he'll get along with the younger you? Imagine, you and Brighton as friends in this day in age." She smiled at the though, remembering how they were in her time. How close and comfortable they were. It was the first time she'd seen Remus really talk to a friend who wasn't a Marauder or someone related to James. She wasn't sure Remus ever thought of him as his best mate, but Brighton had always considered Remus his. "He'll come to me," she said, wiping her face and staring up at the blue sky in thought.

Awhile later, Hermione flooed back to Hogwarts. It was early evening and so she made her way to the library. She spoke a few moments with Madame Pince, who was walking up and down the aisles, checking that each book was in its rightful place. She thought it must be a job that lasted hours, but didn't comment. After gaining a few books on Defense Against the Dark Arts to review and asking the librarian if she had back ups for if she wanted to show them to her students, she made her way back to her rooms. She would spend the next few days going over her Defense Against the Dark Arts and sharpening her skills, though they were already as deadly as could be. Her classroom would have to be arranged in a way that she thought was more her style, which usually meant more books and a less oppressing and stifling surrounding. Her eyes darted to her calendar every once in awhile, as though she were waiting for it to pop up with an event for her to stop, but nothing would show. While she felt anxious to stop things and save people, she was also scared for the eventuality. What if she stumbled or screwed something up? What if she was killed before completing anything?

The next few days she spent with Albus, Hagrid, and Madame Pomfrey. She had yet to meet Professor McGonagall, as she was quite busy since arriving back. Brighton hadn't come to her, yet, and Hermione was sure that he would eventually. She focused her mind instead on other things, and was left with only her past to consume her mind. Hermione found speaking to Albus refreshing and while she gave him the more condensed version, she spoke to him about nearly everything. She went into wide detail about Harry, talking of his feats over his life and his kind personality. He was a true hero and she felt everybody should know it, though she couldn't go around boasting of a boy who hadn't even been born yet. And she told him of Harry's love for Susan, because she simply couldn't help but think of his heartbroken face and tortured self whenever her best friend was brought up. The way he cradled his wife, the way he cried out for her, how he had crumbled into a mass of emptiness at her death, it was all so... reminiscent of what happened to her when she lost Remus. Of course, Harry never had the chance to make it to shouting at her that she couldn't leave him, in fact he didn't even get the chance to really say goodbye.

She spoke of all her friends and all the losses that weighed down on her, and while Albus was a great listener, he simply couldn't offer the comfort Remus had. Sometimes, late at night, she rather wished the young Remus was around. And she knew, in her dire state of depression, that were he there during those selfish hours, she would pour it all out to him. Just one glance from his amber eyes would have her spilling her every memory and begging him to hold her, to soothe the pain away. But he would never see her in these nights, he wouldn't know of her despair, not like her Remus did. She would keep him at a professional distance and try and treat him like she did everyone else.

When the Welcoming Feast arrived, Hermione was in a tizzy. She was pacing from her office into her bedroom, straight across her common room without pause. Tomorrow she'd be starting classes with all those unfamiliar faces; she'd be teaching the parents of the witches and wizards of her time. She would know of those who died, those who worked for Voldemort, and those who simply weren't recognized as anything any longer. She'd teach them to fight and defend, even those who would go on to use her own teachings against her and those who fought on her side. It was her duty, her calling, her job. And she would teach them and encourage them, she would make sure that they knew what her defense methods meant. She would remind them of the person on the other end of the wand, the innocent or dark wizard. She would teach them humility and triumph, hard work and laziness. She would mold them into the wizards and witches needed to defeat Voldemort, even if she was the one who would eventually have to take on the dark man. She wouldn't let anyone else take her place, no. She would find the Horcruxes, if she even allowed him to get that far. It was all up to her.

Inhaling, she gathered her Gryffindor courage and left her room to make her way to the Hall. One glance out the window told her that the students were just arriving. She arrived in the Great Hall to find the Professors already seated and talking amongst themselves. There was an open seat beside Albus, waiting to be filled by her. When he spotted her face, he motioned warmly for her to come sit. As she crossed to him, she noticed that many of the other Professors were looking at her as though she had crossed a few boundaries and taken something of theirs. Sitting beside Albus, she blocked out the negativity coming from the others and focused on the nice, wise man beside her. He calmed her fears by filling her with funny little anecdotes about how the last few Welcoming Feasts had gone and warned her that the Marauders would likely put on a show for them.

When he introduced her to Professor McGonagall, Hermione had barely concealed her reaction to the woman. She was stuck between irritation and happiness. The McGonagall she knew had caused her severe problems in the last few years, let alone months. While she was a wonderful woman, one who had made it through everything, she tended to force Hermione into being a symbol of hope. She was overbearing, rather pushy, and far too involved in Hermione's life. She wouldn't leave her alone to grieve, instead wanting her to move on quickly and put all of her emotion into fixing the Wizarding world. This McGonagall, however, was not tainted by the fear of dying or the scared reality that the world was falling to pieces around her. She was pleasant enough, and kind in her voice, though there was a sternness only she could assert whenever she turned it on a student.

Albus went through with the Sorting Hat, and Hermione watched diligently as students were weaved separate and sent off to enjoy the comforts of their new Housemates. He made a quick note to all that the Forbidden Forest was very much _forbidden_, and then centered her out by announcing her as their new professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts. She rose from her seat gracefully, her gaze sweeping the tables to see expressions. Her eyes landed on the Marauders, each of whom were looking at her in their own way. Sirius was still suspicious, Peter still awkward, James was open and welcoming, while Remus looked at her curiously. He gazed at her with a familiar look in his eyes, one of trust and understanding. Her eyes lingered, but she moved on to see Lily, and felt her breath catch. She was really quite beautiful, Harry's mother, and she had a large book in front of her too. She was focused on Albus and Hermione, but her book was just waiting to be read.

"...She's a remarkable Professor, and I have no doubt that you will all quite enjoy her classes. While she's young, she won't be taking any raucous behavior, so don't think you'll be getting away with anything," he said, a twinkle in his eyes as his gaze fell on the Marauders too. "Now, the year has only begun and many things will greet us on our journey. Enjoy, young minds, this feast of welcoming," he announced, his arms widening and calling upon the food which appeared in a huge order over the tables.

Hermione smiled at Albus as he returned to his seat. They spoke about her classes and how he wished to sit in on one in particular with the seventh years, which she was quite excited about. She found she still looked for his approval in school matters, almost as though he was her professor and grading her on everything. Professor McGonagall spoke to Hermione awhile about her own curriculum and then gave her fair and long warning about the Marauders, while simultaneously praising them on their creative genius. A loud boom echoed throughout the Hall then and Hermione turned to see what they might have done.

Confetti hailed down from the sky, gold and maroon in colour. Trumpets sounded, as though recognizing royalty and balloons popped all around, dropping random items on each table. The Slytherin's found themselves tainted with smelly cheese raining down on them. The Hufflepuff's had whipcream explode all over them and their food, leaving them in an amusing, sticky mess of white. The Ravenclaw's were drenched in bouncing Jello rectangles, each looking like a book with a squirming candy worm sticking out of them. They splattered on the students heads and into their food. The Gryffindor's, save four, found themselves covered in chocolate sauce. And just as faces turned to the main table, Hermione flicked her wand to throw up a shielding charm on her head. She looked to Albus to see if he wanted the same, but was surprised to see him grinning and shaking his head at her, wanting to take part. Not a second later, an odd shade of orange pudding fell on top of the professors around her and she couldn't help but laugh at them. Up in the sky, written in elaborate cursive, was, "_Welcome students of Hogwarts. The coming year promises to be very interesting. After all, we must all go out with a resounding bang! Respectfully, The Marauders_". When the writing disappeared, sweets fell down on all five tables, of all kinds and sizes, even the Slytherins were gifted.

Hermione, not sure if she should take the chance, kept her shield up to be safe. Albus laughed uproariously from beside her, shaking his head and stroking his pudding covered beard thoughtfully. "Marvelous, wasn't it? Absolutely marvelous," he said, nodding.

"POTTER, BLACK, LUPIN, AND PETTIGREW, I EXPECT TO SEE YOU IN MY OFFICE!" Professor McGonagall screeched, rising from her seat and going to make it around the table. Her feet caught on to some pudding however, and she slipped. Hermione darted out to catch her, holding her up from the floor and bracing her feet against the ground. However, in catching McGonagall, she managed to get herself dressed in the offensive orange pudding too. Chuckling lightly, Hermione nodded as Professor McGonagall thanked her quickly before rushing off to shout at the Marauders.

"Eventful supper, wasn't it, Hermione?" Albus asked as she resumed her seat.

"Quite, Albus," she replied, nodding.

"Yes, I must say, next year will be quite... empty without the Marauders up and about," he admitted, looking rather sad.

Hermione nodded, not sure how to reply. "Well, you'll still see them and I'm sure their mischief will reach outside these castle walls."

"You think?" He turned to her, looking quite animated in his messy appearance.

She snorted, unable to hide her amusement. "Yes," she managed, shaking her head.

Later that evening, after the students had made their way back to their dorms and the Great Hall had been cleaned by the Marauders, Hermione walked the silent halls of the school. It was nearing the witching hour and Hermione was dressed in her nightgown and open robe, needing the crisp air and moonlight to calm her nerves. She was tired, but restless. She wanted to sleep, if only so she wouldn't be haggard while teaching the next day, but her mind was whirling with what could happen the next morning. What if she wasn't as prepared as she thought? What if she ruined the education of all those who took her class? Or what if she was too hard on them? Expecting too much of them? They were just children, she had to remember. And while she had grown up learning defensive measures because she truly had a huge part in the war, not all those she would be teaching would. She wanted to shield them from it, keep them from seeing too much or losing too many. But was that the right way to do it? By shielding them was she really teaching them what they should know? Harry always told her that it was better to know and be prepared, rather than to not know and fall into their enemies grasp. She sighed, feeling conflicted.

She was leaning against a window, her hands cupping her face and her robe dancing around her from the breeze. The grounds of Hogwarts were really quite an amazing view, vast and beautiful. The moon spilled over the water in the distance and fell on her with enough light to keep her seeing everything with great clarity. A sound caught her attention while she stood knee deep in worry; the scuffling of feet. She whirled around, her eyes wide and her attention alert. The hall was empty, at least to the eye. It came to her suddenly and she smiled very lightly, hoping they wouldn't notice. "_**Accio** Invisibility Cloak_," Hermione announced, flicking her wand. It flew to her with nearly no resistance, save for James' outstretched hand, obviously trying to stop it from getting into the Professor's grasp. She held the familiar thin, soft fabric in her hands, reminded of the same useful tool sitting in her trunk for safekeeping. "First night back and you've already managed to break two rules," she commented, leaning back against the wall.

Sirius frowned at her, crossing his arms defiantly. "When I read the school guidelines, there was nothing about giving a nice welcoming dessert to your fellow schoolmates and professors."

"And I suppose Slytherin's _love_ stinky cheese," she said, her brow lifting.

"I have it on good authority that they do," he told her, nodding as he smirked.

Sighing, Hermione tried to hide her smile behind her frown. They quite reminded her of her friends, Harry and Ron, and she felt a burst of melancholy hit her hard. "And is there a reason you're roaming the grounds this late?" she queried, looking away from them if only to get away from the familiar face of James Potter. "You should be resting, school starts early tomorrow."

"We were on our way to the library," Sirius began, while James simultaneously said, "We were sleep walking." They looked at each and frowned, before saying together, "I thought we were going with _my_ idea if we ran into someone!" They sighed, shaking their heads, "So did I!" they exclaimed.

Hermione snorted, turning her attention back to them as her hands fiddled with the cloak, folding it up out of habit. "You were sleep walking your way to the library?" she asked, stepping toward them.

Peter looked up at her, his eyes barely making it to her face before immediately going back down to the floor. He was back against the wall, his arms crossed tight over his chest and his thin hair falling over his blushing face. He was standing so close to Sirius and James, she was surprised one of them wasn't forced into holding him. Remus, on the other hand, stood off to James' side, his expression one of defeat. It was as though he knew this was going to happen, and didn't look the least bit surprised or worried. He kept glancing at her, she could feel his gaze, but she had yet to really look at him, not when she knew his eyes could connect with hers.

"Exactly!" James and Sirius told her, grinning mischievously.

Hermione shook her head knowingly, "You were on your way to the Kitchens, weren't you?"

They stared at her surprised, their expressions giving away more than they had thought to. Realizing their folly, they covered themselves and cleared their throat. "No! We don't even--"

"Know where the Kitchens are," she finished, knowing what they were going to say. "Mm hmm." She nodded, rolling her eyes upward. "Well, you could be a lot less suspicious. I could hear you coming, as I'm sure Filch could."

"Maybe it's just your training that has you picking up on us," Peter blurted, staring at her with curious eyes. "You know, a-as an Auror," he pointed out.

Hermione stilled, her shoulders becoming stiff and her expression turning hard. "How would you know about that?" she wondered, her eyes raising to catch his. Perhaps she was staring at him harder than she meant to, because he seemed to recoil quite suddenly. Reminding herself that they were suspicious of her and likely went to Dumbledore, she calmed her senses. Forcing herself to relax, she softened her eyes at Peter. "Auror training or not, Mr. Pettigrew, tripping over one another's feet is loud enough to catch up on. Four people, especially your size, under one cloak is nearly impossible. I don't know how you manage it. I could hardly fit three, and that was two boys yours size and me, which at the time was quite small."

Sirius and James glanced at each other and then cast a curious and amused expression on her. "You had an Invisibility Cloak?" James asked, grinning.

"I believe the correct verb is 'have,' Mr. Potter," she replied, smiling softly. "It came in quite handy during my schooling years and later on in various missions," she admitted, feeling as though she were talking to people who knew her far better than they should.

The hall was empty and quiet, save for their voices reaching each other. The four boys were lined up against the wall, Sirius standing a little closer than everyone else. "And who were the other two guys?" he asked, lifting his brow and smirking devilishly.

Hermione's expression turned haunted, though she tried to hide it. "My best friends," she replied quietly, looking away. "We were quite the trio, always getting into trouble," she told them, wistfully.

Sirius snorted with disbelief. "You? But you had top grades in school, were Head girl, earned an Order of Merlin by the time you were twenty, and are possibly the youngest DADA professor ever," he pointed out skeptically.

Hermione chuckled, shaking her head. "You realize that most of you get top marks, one of you is Head boy, and another--" She stopped herself before she could tell them that Remus would become a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. "And the Order of Merlin was not something I wanted," she said gravely, a bitter taste in her mouth.

"How could anybody _not_ want that?" James wondered, stepping forward with curiosity.

Hermione turned to look at him, finding herself somewhat blinded by the similarities to Harry. Aside from the eyes, he looked just like the man she knew before he died. He only had three years to have the healthy look that James had, but Harry had worn it well. Feeling overwhelmed by just how much he looked like her Harry, she forgot to guard herself and said softly, "The cost was my best friend's life."

"How?" Remus asked from behind them, coming a little closer and looking at her with something akin to understanding.

Hermione found herself lost in her memories. "There was a huge battle, one that could truly mean the end of everything. We'd been training for years, possibly since my first year. We were all there, everyone who thought to make a difference. And Harry..." Her eyes teared up and her hands shook by her sides. "He was ready... He could have destroyed Voldemort--" she ignored their shocked expressions and flinches, "I know he could have. He was destined to; _prophesied_ to." She shook her head, her mouth shaking, "But the second his wife was killed he lost all means to fight. She was everything to him... all that he loved. The only family he had left. And the second..." She exhaled heavily, tears slipping from her eyes. "When he saw her fall, he abandoned his fight with Voldemort and ran to her. That coward," she spat, her teeth grit, "killed Harry while his back was turned. While he held his dead wife, sobbing against her hand!" Her head turned back and forth, anger spilling out of her and overlapping her pain. "Voldemort disapparated after that, shouting that we would all know our place now, that we had lost. I couldn't... I _wouldn't_ let him finish us though. There was still hope, there was still a future. I... I killed the next Death Eater I saw, told everyone that it wasn't over, and we finished that Battle with a feckless victory on our end. The pathetic Death Eaters ran off with their wands between their legs, scared of a few children." She clenched her jaw, turning her back on them and walking to the window. "I lose a best friend and I get an award. Congratulations me," she spat, darkly.

"What you did though... that was courageous," James told her. She could hear his footsteps approaching and turned to greet him, hating that she saw hazel eyes instead of green. "Would that Harry fellow have laid down and let it end? Or would he have fought like you had?" he queried, his brows lifting.

She didn't hesitate, knowing the answer easily. "He would've fought to the bitter end. He would have killed them all given the chance," she replied, knowing he had her there.

"And would you think him a hero? Would you think he was worthy of the Order of Merlin if he had?" he asked, staring straight at her with an understanding she had sorely missed. She nodded slowly, her tears brimming at her eyes edge. "Then don't you deserve it, Professor? Don't you think you're courageous or worthy? You didn't let them win. If they believed they had won, they would've gone on to destroy more people, kill more innocents. You..." He swallowed, shaking his head. "You saved us."

Hermione stared at him a moment, before reality crashed down on her. Reaching out, she handed him the Invisibility Cloak and shook her head. "Not yet, James, but I will," she replied, before turning away from them. "You boys better get some sleep," she called to them. "I won't be a pushover in the classroom."

"Y-You mean you're n-not going to give us detention?" she heard Peter call out incredulously. The other boys immediately began quietly chastising him for reminding her of their indiscretion.

Hermione turned to them, still walking, "I don't believe there is a school rule against sleepwalking library goers," she said simply before turning and making her way back to her rooms.

As soon as she was hidden behind her portrait door, she let her sobs out. She had revealed more than she should have, even if they didn't know who Harry was or anything to do with the battle that happened twenty-three years into the future. Pressing her hands against her face, she chastised herself for being so stupid and so ridiculously trusting of a group of boys who hardly knew her, one of which who could later become a Death Eater. She didn't even want to think of the ramifications of what she said, and moved to her room to bury her sorrow in her pillow. It didn't take long before she had cried herself to sleep, one filled with the same nightmare and heart wrenching reality.

The next morning, Hermione felt tired and heavy with worry. After taking a long shower, in hopes of washing away her fear, she dressed for class, accidentally putting one of Remus' robes on instead of her own. She hadn't figured out her mistake until she nearly tripped walking into her office. She had skipped breakfast, instead having a quick muffin and cup of tea, feeling her stomach was too severely knotted for anything more. Smoothing out her robes, she picked up her curriculum book which had been praised and given permission by Albus, and made her way into her Defense Against the Dark Arts class.

Students wouldn't be arriving just yet, so she had some time to prepare. She had taken time out of the last few days to rearrange the class, and found it all the more comfortable. She kept the window shutters open, giving the room a rather sleepy but lightly sunned look to it. She moved the desks back some and spread them out more to give them a little more room. Bookshelves were lined with books she would be using and handing out for research and in-class essays. The iron chandelier was unlit and hanging down from the center of the roof. Her desk was centered at the front so she could keep watch on everyone and be close if anything happened to the students. She felt bad for hoping that she didn't have any "Neville Longbottom" types in her class and immediately told herself that if she did, she would make sure to help him along the way to becoming just as strong, powerful, and heroic as Neville became. A trunk holding a Boggart that Hagrid had caught for her sat in the far corner, waiting to be used, and small statues of various magical creatures lined the cupboards beneath the windows. A werewolf, goblin, unicorn, giant, house elf, centaur and wizard sat in stone, each making their own movement to fit their kind.

The door opened earlier than she expected though she showed no sign of outward surprise. She sat at her desk, her book open in front of her and her wand laying beside it and against her palm. She had the Seventh year Gryffindor's and Slytherin's first, unfortunately, and hoped that the Marauders wouldn't cause any unneeded havoc. When she looked up she found herself staring at a familiar and quite unfriendly face. She held back the dark urge to kill him as he walked down the aisle, his robes billowing dramatically. Severus Snape took his seat near the front in a far corner, his greasy black hair fell to cover his face in chunks. His pale face and long nose were immediately covered by the book he lifted and burrowed himself into. Hermione drew her gaze away and told herself to calm down. This was not the Snape she knew, if it were, he'd be hexing her into oblivion and sneering at her incapability to attack. She chose not to reach out to him, knowing he would only answer her as a Professor and act as though he was doing his student duty by being the least bit polite.

The doors opened soon after and students began filling her class. She was quite surprised by just how many greeted her and wondered if they were very skilled or if their last professor had just been rather forgiving in his grading. Before long, she was faced with a full classroom, save for the last four who meandered in just shy of the bell, taking their specific seats. She could tell from the way people avoided the two long desks that seat four that they were indeed the Marauder's place. Such unequivocal claim had been placed by them and Hermione wondered if when she was in the Trio back in school, students then had stayed away from her, Harry, and Ron's seats. It seemed that way, given that they were always open and waiting to be occupied. Odd that she hadn't really noticed.

Coming out of her musings, she looked around the classroom and took in the faces of those sitting in the seats before her. She hardly looked at the Marauders, taking care not to act as though she knew them any better than the rest and moved on to go through name call. A few names struck out at her, but she continued on, making no expression of interest or distaste for their future. When she was done, she looked up to see that the students were examining the room, many of them watching the statues walking around the cupboard top. The unicorn was prancing elegantly, while the centaur kept looking up at the sun with a curious expression. The goblin was counting money from his pockets and rearranging his glasses every few seconds, while casting annoyed looks at everybody around him. The house elf was running around cleaning things with its grey stone-made cloth, while the Giant kept trying to pick his huge foot up for no apparent reason, only managing to pitch himself over. The werewolf was loping back and forth across the cupboards, occasionally stopping to throw its head back and howl, though no sound came out of his mouth. Lastly, the wizard was watching them all with a pensive expression, scratching his jaw and occasionally swirling his wand around carefully.

One of the students reached out, her shaking hand going for the werewolf as it paced. Her expression was one of suspicious curiosity and Hermione shook her head, knowing the girl was about to be harmed. She'd hardly started a class and she was already going to have to send someone to the Hospital Wing, with a bite taken out of them, no less. She moved swiftly, appearing in front of the girl as though she had apparated, which, of course, was impossible in Hogwarts. "D'you know anything about werewolves, Miss Swick?"

She cleared her throat, looking abashed. She was a Slytherin girl, her crest stared up at Hermione primly. "Of course, we learned about them in third year," she replied, sounding snotty.

"And when you learned about them, did your professor tell you it was intelligent to reach out and try to touch one as it was pacing?" she queried, her brow lifting.

"No, of course not," she replied quietly, sounding affronted. "But it's just a statue!" she protested, her eyes widening and her mouth turning to a frown.

Hermione held her hand out behind her and didn't have to look, since she knew that the werewolf would step onto her hand naturally. When its weight filled her palm, she moved her hand to hover in front of Tara Swick. The werewolf's back arched and he began growling at the girl, looking poised for attack. "Each statue is infused with a hair from each being it shows. It has the natural ability and actions of those that you see. Werewolves are naturally cautious of people, therefore, if you startle him, he will attack," she told her, her finger running down the werewolf's back until it sat back and leaned into her touch.

"Then why isn't it attacking you?" she asked nastily, looking annoyed to be chastised.

Hermione smirked at the young girl, standing up straight and moving her hand to let the werewolf down. It stayed put for a moment, turning to look up at her as though it didn't want to leave. She frowned at it, trying to hide her amused smile and made a clicking noise until it nodded and jumped down to the cupboard shelf. "That is a strong question, Miss. Swick," she replied, but didn't elaborate. She could feel Remus' smile and found it odd that a twenty-six year younger grin from the man had the same warming effect that her husband's had. Moving back to her desk, she lifted her wand and pointed it at the blackboard behind her so that a scrawl would appear.

"Wait," someone cried out, not wanting to change subjects yet. "How did you get a hair from all those creatures?" a young Gryffindor boy asked, not even bothering to raise his hand.

Hermione frowned at him, "You'll raise your hand next time, Mr. Smith," she said first. "While a unicorn hair is incredibly expensive, you can buy them, which is what I did." She couldn't go looking for a unicorn, as it wouldn't come near her. She had to be innocent and she wasn't; not really. She had killed, harmed, and been tainted by far too many deaths to be considered innocent. Moving on, she focused on the next statue, "I was in a Giant colony last year. An old friend of mine was half Giant and he told me how to find it. I spoke to a man there and kindly asked him for one so I could use it in my statue. He gave it to me, simple as that," she said with a shrug. "I know a Centaur who lives nearby here and he offered me a hair when I told him of my plan, so that was also quite easy." She smiled lightly, "And I know a very nice House Elf who was anxious to give me all of his hair if I so needed it," she added, nodding. "I spoke to a Goblin at the bank and after a long conversation, one that involved my never trying to make a profit on it unless I planned to share it with him, he also gave me a strand of his hair. The wizard was quite easy, a friend of mine gave me his." She shrugged her shoulders again, "Simple as that." She turned back to the board, hoping to change the subject, but was once again interrupted.

"You never said how you got the werewolf hair," a male voice called, which she immediately recognized as Sirius'.

Hermione turned, lifting a brow at him before saying, "Quite right, Mr. Black. How very observant of you." She turned to look at the statue werewolf who now sat curled up on the cupboard, his tail wagging around restlessly. He legs kept bucking out randomly, as though he were running in his sleep.

"It'd be nearly impossible to get a werewolf hair! You couldn't get near it while it was changed," one of the students told her, shaking their head vehemently. "And if it wasn't changed, then it's not the same." He made a face then, uncertain, "Right?"

"Sort of," she replied, nodding. She couldn't lie to them, not when she believed what she was doing was for a good cause. She wouldn't go into full length however, just the bare facts, she decided. "Most can't get near a werewolf when it's changed. _I_ can walk into a colony of werewolves without a problem, and walk out with not a scratch on me. Full moon, full form, and not an enemy in sight." She stepped toward them, noting their shocked expressions. "I have a fair bit of friends who are werewolves and one of them was kind enough to allow me to take one of their hairs for my statue."

"But Professor, werewolves attack humans. It's in their nature," Tara Swick told her, crossing her arms.

"Attacking is not in their nature, Miss. Flick, defending is. Werewolves are naturally playful animals who enjoy roaming in the moonlight. They get along just fine with all other animals. The only reason a werewolf attacks a human is because he knows that wizards and witches will attack it out of fear. Since a werewolf wants to live just as much as any one of us, he naturally reacts to save his own life." She paused, watching their faces. "Wouldn't you think to attack if you saw a werewolf right now? It's your first reaction, is it not?" She watched them all nod. "And if you were a werewolf, would you be afraid that humans were going to hunt and attack you?" They nodded again, this time more slowly. "Then doesn't it then make sense that they attack you first. Survival of the fittest, of course. They're only trying to live."

"You can't really believe that werewolves are kind or nice or good people at heart," she heard a boy snap, his voice laced with disdain. "They kill innocent people, hurt humans, because of what? Fear? They're mongrels, the lot of them. And they should be killed for being what they are," Snape told her viciously, his eyes casting a dubious glare at Remus and the others.

Hermione noticed that numerous students agreed and found herself glaring at the young boy, her mouth turned in a frown. She had also caught the way Remus had paled dramatically and felt sorry for having to talk about something so very personal to him. Walking toward Snape, her long hair swaying at her back, she noticed that his expression turned to one of mild surprise that she would think to come to him, let alone speak to him. "Fear is what makes us human, Mr. Snape. If you were fearless, you would be foolish. Fear can keep a person alive or be the reason for their death. But make no mistake, a werewolf feels fear just as you do. They feel everything you do, they just can't come right out and say it. And when you stand before one, your heart beating at a frenzied rate because you're terrified he's about to kill you, remember that the same thing is happening to him." She stared at him head on, taking in his cold black, dull eyes and giving back a dark stare that challenged him to say any different. He stayed silent and his mouth creased in a annoyed frown.

Lifting her head, she looked over the classroom. "Since you've all taken such an active interest in the topic of werewolves, you'll write me a three foot essay on them. I want to know what you think of them, and what you know of them. I will not fault your beliefs but grade you on coherency, fact, and proper presentation. You have until the end of class, books are on the shelves and I'm open for questions if you have any," she announced, making her way back to her desk and closing her curriculum book, knowing that her first lesson was not going as planned.

The scratching of quills greeted her ears and Hermione looked up briefly to see that the students were beginning their work, though they looked none too happy about it. She smiled lightly, feeling anxious to know what the students around her truly believed. Was there a chance that some of them thought it would be interesting to know a werewolf? Would they be open to the idea that werewolves could be tamed and controlled? Or were they all scared and worried about werewolves attacking and killing them? She frowned at the thought, hoping it wasn't that way. While they worked, Hermione went over her curriculum book, determined to get back on course next class. She could feel the change of atmosphere suddenly and knew that one of the Marauders was planning something. The way everything stilled told her that the class was waiting anxiously for the show, and she somehow knew it had to do with Snape.

Sighing with resignation, Hermione decided to do the right thing. "Mr. Black, continue to do what you're planning to do, and I'll have you cleaning bedpans every Quidditch game," she warned. A gasp was issued from the young man and she looked up to see his indignant and disbelieving face. His wand hung limply from his hand, and he waited for her to take back her claim. She stared at him, her gaze unflinching and he abruptly dropped his wand and turned his attention to his essay. Hermione gave a sharp nod of triumph before turning back to her book. Not a second later, she was saying, "The same goes for you James, and I take no issue with you being the Chaser. I have my ways, and you will surely be visiting Madame Pomfrey while your back-up takes your place in the air."

"Low blow, Professor G," James replied, sounding crestfallen.

"Why does he get to be called James and I have to be _Mr. Black_?" Sirius whined, looking put out.

Hermione rolled her eyes, admitting only to herself that she hadn't realized she'd made a distinction between the names. "Oh, but you sound so very sophisticated, Mr Black," she replied, smiling to herself as she baited him.

He scoffed, crossing his arms childishly and frowning at her.

"Would you both please just do the assignment, some of us are trying to work," came a soft but annoyed female voice.

Hermione looked up to see Lily Evans glaring at James and Sirius, her hands on her hips and her expression lined with irritation.

"Evans, please stop flirting with me. I have an essay due at the end of class," James replied, grinning at her. "Rain check!" he offered.

Snorting, she blushed, glaring at him before she turned back to her work in a huff.

"James, I do believe you've embarrassed her," Sirius announced with a dramatic sigh.

"Embarrassed?" James said, sounding incredulous. "Impossible! Lovely Lily couldn't possibly be embarrassed by her obvious and unhideable love for me!" he exclaimed.

"_Unhideable_ is not a word," Remus informed him, sounding amused.

"Is too, I just made it one," James replied, shrugging easily.

Hermione found the whole thing quite amusing, but knew she couldn't simply let it continue. "James, are you done your essay?" she asked, staring at him expectantly.

"Haven't even started, Professor G, I was gathering my insight," he told her, grinning.

"Gather it quicker, Mr. Potter," she told him, her brows raising. "Because you aren't leaving this classroom until I have your essay in my hand. And I'm going to add another foot for every word you say here on in," she warned, her mouth twitching in a sly smile.

"Cruel," Sirius told her, shaking his head and frowning.

"The same goes for you, _Sirius_," she told him, pointedly.

He grinned at her, sending a wink her way before turning down to his essay.

Hermione shook her head with exasperation, glancing at Remus out of habit, only to find him gazing at her. His amber eyes reflected curious intrigue and she wondered if everybody else thought it odd how easily she interacted with the two Marauders. Taking a quick look around the class she found only Snape looking at her oddly. On the random occasion, Lily too would look up at her with mild suspicion but then turn her attention back to her work. Her eyes met Remus' again, finding that he was really quite as comforting to look at as her husband had been. She felt relaxed in his presence and before long she wasn't so overwhelmed with the classroom atmosphere around her or the fact that she had completely gone off topic from her curriculum. When he smiled very lightly at her, she nodded and returned her attention to her work. She had to be very careful, she couldn't be gazing at students when she was supposed to be teaching them.

The rest of the class was uneventful, aside from a few mischievous looks from Sirius and James that she had to watch carefully. As everyone filed out, they dropped their five foot essays on her desk. Hermione noticed that the Marauders lingered back until the end, each, save for Peter, leaving her with a small grin before their exit. With a deep sigh, Hermione shook her head. She knew that in future her classes with the Marauders were not going to be easy. She had to be careful how much attention she gave them, especially Remus. And she had to admit that James seemed to look at her different, with some sort of respect that hadn't been there before. Sirius wasn't quite so suspicious, even seeming mildly friendly now. She hoped Remus had made up his mind and would come and see her about her program, but he had yet to do so. Chewing her lip, she resigned herself to the fact that she was now a professor, one who would be having a very cautious career. With the Marauders loose, havoc would surely ensue.

**

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A/N** _I'm happy to say that my back is no longer bothering me. My deepest thanks goes out to all of you who sent out your 'get wells' for me, I really appreciate that! I'm working on updating all of my stories outside of Secret Life and The Werewolf Tamer, which each have a number of chapters already written. Since I don't usually write ahead for BITTT, AFA, or Growing, I have to write them in my spare time. Right now, however, I'm getting ready to move to another apartment. I'm also quite worried about my computer, which is breaking down on me. I have all my stories on it, and I'm beginning to worry that i might just lose them all. Unfortunately, I can't afford to get it fixed or get a new one. Sighs... In any case, I hope you'll stick with me and I'll try and update the other stories soon :D_

_Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, please review!_

_Much Love,  
-**Amanda**_


	8. Seven

**Review offering insight to the story**:

"_Once again your flow astonishes me. I felt like I was right there in the story. I love this one..The way that hermione interacts with the Marauders you would think she knows them in and out. Remus must have told her loads of stories while they were married. The way she baited them in class was priceless I love it. Well at least it was nice of Mione to save Snape from whatevere was planned. This story has got me on the edge of my seat I am dying to know what happens next..._"- _**mskiti**_ of FanFiction net.

**Thank you to the following reviewers**: _Jester08, Hotkat144, Black-Rose23, Galleon-to-Galleon, DramaQueen4eva, killing u with umbrellas, Legessa, untamedspiral, PurpleRose44, **Li-chan, quiet-mg, bethygirl94, Caligirl-HPLVR, nelygirl**_ and _especially** annieca, Lupin's Mistress** (Erika)**, Danielle, ****galloping-goose** (Zeus)_ and **_laugh.live.learn_.**

**Dedicated to**_: laugh.live.learn  
(I almost put up your review, but it was just so big, lol. I loved reading it! I was very flattered! So, I hope you enjoy this chapter as well!)_

_**The Werewolf Tamer**_

_Seven_

Remus found the first day of classes flying by. DADA was the only one that seemed longer than the rest, and it was his first class of the day. He had gone in thinking that Professor Granger would undoubtedly become like all the other professors to him. She would be sharp, impersonal, strict, and maybe even a little dull. Instead, he found a woman who had a sense of humor, a great love for humanity, and a good grasp of how to deal with troublemakers. She was able to put both James and Sirius in their places without turning harsh or even wilting under their act of superiority. In fact, Remus was pretty sure that she had gained respect from her response to the Marauders. She had certainly gained their notice, especially since finding her roaming the halls in nothing but a white nightgown and a man's robe the night before.

He knew they'd be caught, he'd been waiting on it. He had warned his friends, but they were hungry. Their prank had gone off earlier than expected and they hadn't had sufficient time to eat dinner. McGonagall had them cleaning before they could protest that they were still hungry. So they took a chance on going to the Kitchens and lo and behold, Hermione was out walking around. He had to admit, she was sharper than other professors. Most would have assumed they were hearing things or their mind was playing tricks on them, but she knew right off the bat that it was an Invisibility Cloak. She had shocked them even more as the night wore on however, with her easy going personality on everything. She didn't chastise Sirius' back talk, but instead met it head on. And she was even forthcoming with a part of her past that was obviously quite hard for her to live with. Remus had been shocked to see the woman, who always seemed to put together, fall apart before his very eyes. He didn't know what he and his friends had done to give her the belief that they were trustworthy enough to hear of what had happened, but whatever it was he was glad for it. He'd never seen James so serious and understanding with anybody who wasn't a Marauder before, and it was enlightening.

The new professor was undoubtedly beautiful, he had no problem admitting it. Even Sirius told them later, after she'd left them with their Cloak and a simply warming, that she was really quite fetching. They all knew what Peter thought, since it was really the only opinion on her he seemed to share with them. James thought she was pretty too, but Remus got the feeling that he saw her in an entirely different light. He spoke to her easier than Remus had witnessed with most others. It wasn't teasing and it wasn't flirting, which was all he really did with girls. But when he spoke to Hermione, he sounded friendly. As though he trusted her and was reaching out to try and get to know her. It was odd, given that James wasn't really friends with girls. There was Lily, but even then everything he said was linked to his adoration for her. His friends were all males, and he didn't seem interested in changing the fact. Sirius was still wary of her, though he did seem to be cooling off from his first fears that she was out to get them. Slowly but surely, she was having an effect on the Marauders.

Remus had planned to go and see her that first morning, but when she didn't arrive for breakfast he figured she might be too busy for him. So instead, he decided he would see her when classes were over. They made it to DADA just before the bell, as was their regular routine. The class went off not to her way of planning, he could see that right away. Her statues caught the attention of everyone and he too had to admit that they were quite diverse and eye catching. He wondered if she would openly admit that she was a Werewolf Tamer, and the opening came when Swick, a Slytherin girl, lashed out at her for correcting her mindless idea to reach out to the werewolf who was obviously in a mood. Remus felt a little on edge when the whole class began throwing out their opinions of werewolves but didn't want to show his fear. It was Snape's comments that really worried him, and he wasn't sure what to say or how to act when he realized so many agreed that werewolves should be killed before they could do any harm. And then she surprised him again.

Hermione's short and to the point speech made him swell with pride. For one stark moment, he didn't feel like the monster he was labeled to be. In fact, his decision to take her up on her offer of becoming part of her program had just been confirmed. He had been uncertain about whether he should or not but learning of how close she kept the freeing of werewolves to her made him sure. Sirius had thought aloud about how she could just be someone searching for fame by making up some ludicrous idea that wouldn't work out. He could see though, the way the werewolf statue came to her, the way she spoke, she had a passion for it. And he believed in her, believed that she could tame him and numerous others. It was a startling understanding, one that felt as though it rocked his whole world. She could give him what he had been searching for since he was a small child. And she wouldn't give up on him, he could read it in her stance, in her eyes, in her heart that she had sewn on her sleeve.

Classes ended quicker than expected and before Remus knew it he was pacing the Common Room wondering how he should approach Professor Granger and tell her of his decision. His friends sat around him, having no knowledge of his final conclusion. James and Sirius were playing Wizard's Chess while Peter sat cross legged in front of them, watching with avid fascination, his eyes going back and forth from his two best friends in admiration. "What's with the pacing, Mooney? You're distracting me from demolishing Jamesie and his pathetic Chess skills," Sirius called out.

"_You_ demolish _me_, Padfoot," James replied with a snort, "Not possible, friend, you've obviously been suckin' back the Firewhiskey between classes."

Sirius chuckled, "I wish," he muttered, before turning his attention to Remus again. "I'm Sirius," he said, smirking, "What's the problem?"

"Nothing," he replied quickly, shrugging his shoulders. "I... uh... think I'm going to go for a walk."

"Down to the DADA class perhaps," James said, grinning.

"Er, no..." Remus replied, his eyes turning away.

Sirius sighed, leaning back and stretching his arms up in the air. "You know, I could go for a walk right about now, too," he said, his brows lifting. "How 'bout you Prongs?"

"A walk sounds great," he responded, nodding. He smirked, "Besides, I can only beat you so many times, Padfoot, before the the game loses its appeal."

"I was letting you win," Sirius shot back, crossing his arms as he stood up from the sofa. "I didn't want you to look bad in front of Wormtail!"

Remus watched them uncomfortably, "We should go to the library," he announced, hoping to deter them.

"Oh, but I thought we'd make a nice trip over to see Professor G. Maybe she's marked our essays," he said, walking over and nudging Remus with a wink. "And you know how Sirius loves his studies, we wouldn't want to keep him waiting."

"Oh yeah, I've been dying to know how well I did on that," Sirius said, his arm around Peter's shoulders and he ruffled his friend's hair and smirked at the other two Marauder's ahead of him. "Werewolves come out only on Christmas and eat rat babies on Easter, right?" he asked, his brows furrowed with feigned confusion.

"Yup," James said, nodding. "And they have a great fondness for frozen Butterbeer on a stick on every third full moon."

Remus snorted, rolling his eyes upward. "Really guys, I kinda wanted to talk to her alone."

"Oh..." Sirius said dramatically, his brows rising. "Does Mooney have a crush on the new professor?" he teased.

"No," Remus replied quickly, feeling awkward. "I just... came to a decision on... on the program is all." He sighed, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

"Great," James exclaimed, "So you're going to do it then."

"No, he isn't. He doesn't know her well enough for that," Sirius replied, shaking his head.

"Actually--"

"He knows her just fine. How well can you really get to know her, anyway? I think she's his best bet and she's offering him something that could change his whole life, Padfoot. If you were in his position, wouldn't you want what she's saying he can have?" James said, sounding rather defensive.

It was weird seeing Sirius and James disagree, it happened so rarely. Remus wasn't sure if he should interrupt or let them voice their dispute. Usually they thought the same way, acted quite similar, and even spoke at the same time. He was mildly shocked to hear their conflict over Hermione. James was all for the program while Sirius was still very suspicious of it. Even if he rather liked Professor Granger, he didn't agree with her program. He couldn't understand _why_.

Deciding not to hang around as they began arguing again over how she could be setting him up for disaster, Remus left the Common Room, his hands stuffed in his pockets and his resolve firmly in place. He walked quickly, not wanting them to distract him before he got to her. When he reached the double doors, he stared at them a long moment, before finally wrenching them open and walking inside. He came to a shocked stop, his eyes wide and his breath catching in his throat. She stood in the center of the room, dressed in Muggle attire. A simple pair of jeans covered her lower half, bare feet peeking out from the hem. A large, long, pale blue sweater covered her top; it was obviously a man's because it was far too big for her. She was running around in circles, smiling lightly as a three headed puppy chased her, yapping and tripping over its own feet every few steps. Its tail wagged excitedly and it finally stopped, rolling onto its back and beckoning her to pet it. Her hair was swaying all around her, thick curls that seemed to move with her every movement. The sun fell through the window, creating an angelic glow around her. She was really quite stunning and he felt his heart skip while his stomach twisted up into knots.

He was brought out of his reverie when the door opened behind him and his three best friends joined him. He heard the sharp inhalation and then watched as Hermione noticed their presence. She looked surprised to see them and stopped her patting of the three headed puppy's stomach. Lifting it up without a worry in the world, though Remus knew for a fact that the type of dog she was holding was known to be quite vicious and unfriendly, she walked toward them. "Hullo boys, what can I do for you?" she asked, gracing them with a small smile. He noticed that her smiles never reached her eyes, and her laughter had a very sad ring to it. It was as though she were carrying her pain and loss in everything she did and it rather saddened him to know.

"What's that you have there?" James asked, peeking over at the dog that lay panting in Hermione's arms, looking like an adoring child that couldn't get enough attention.

"This is Fluffy," Hermione said, sounding amused as she righted the dog up from its position in her arms and held it so all three heads were facing the four Marauders.

"_Fluffy_?" Sirius asked, incredulous.

"Yes, he's Hagrid's. I have no idea why he named him that, but..." she shrugged as if it meant nothing. "He has a very sweet disposition and loves to play." She held the dog out to them, "Would you like to pet him?"

Everybody but Remus took a dramatic step back, especially since Fluffy growled at them immediately.

"Hush," Hermione chastised and the small puppy immediately listened. All six ears went back in proper apology and then Remus was pinned with six curious gold and black eyes.

Clearing his throat, he reached out and pet the middle head hesitantly, before reaching out with his other and running it down Fluffy's back. The dog took a liking to him and panted with gratitude to the attention, licking his hand with each head as it went by. Remus laughed, his shoulders losing their tension. Hermione passed the puppy off into his arms and Remus was surprised to feel how heavy he was. He looked back at Sirius and James, who watched with wide eyes. Taking a leap of faith, Sirius came forward and reached out to pat the far left head, scratching its ear. James followed, half grinning as he lavished the pup with attention too. Peter watched from the sidelines, looking too worried to come close.

Remus looked up to see Hermione perched on the side of a desk, watching the boys with something in her eyes that he couldn't decipher. When she caught his gaze, her face cleared and she walked over to her desk, searching through it for something. She came back with their essays and sat herself on the corner of the desk again. Fluffy gave a loud _ruff_ and Remus put him down on the ground to run around. He went over to Hermione, each head sniffing her for a moment before she nodded at them and they ran off to tumble around in the middle of the DADA classroom. "I'm happy to say each of you did quite well on your essays," she informed them, handing them over to each boy. "Far better than the other students, though you do have an obvious advantage," she said wryly. "The chocolate thing though, that isn't a werewolf thing. That's just something Remus has," she said, glancing at Peter, who blushed.

"That's what Dumbledore said, but we weren't sure," James said, shrugging. "How did you know about it, if it's only a Remus thing? Dumbledore did say you investigate those you bring into your program."

Hermione stared at them a moment, her arms crossing. "I took a chance. He acts quite like someone I knew did right after his transformation. He was my partner in creating the program. He always had painful stomach aches whenever he tried to eat anything at all, which is natural. But he found that chocolate calmed him and took away the pain for awhile. It has magical properties, of course, and it's widely used to keep from becoming too sad." She shrugged and turned her head away.

"Was?" James asked, walking closer to her and looking at her with a furrowed brow. "You spoke of your partner as if he was in the past."

"James," Remus interrupted, trying to stop his friend from bringing up something that could be quite painful, if the look on Hermione's face was any sort of warning.

She lifted her hand then, rubbing at her neck in a way that told them she didn't like the question. The sunlight glinted off her wedding ring and Remus felt a sudden twist of jealousy and sadness grip his stomach. It was uncalled for, given the circumstances, but he couldn't control his feelings.

"You're married," Sirius pointed out and Hermione's face, if possible, became even more drawn. Remus wasn't sure if he was trying to change the subject from James' obvious folly, but he had managed to make it worse.

She cleared her throat, looking as though she wanted to run.

"You don't have to answer either of those questions," Remus told her, stepping closer to give her a way out, suddenly feeling as though he didn't want to know her answer just as much as she didn't want to tell it. His eyes thinned for a moment and he tipped his head, his nose sniffing the air. There was an incredibly familiar scent in the air, though he couldn't quite pin what it was. It was coming from Hermione, possibly her sweater, and he felt as though he should know what it was, but it wasn't quite clear.

"Sorry, Professor G, didn't mean to get so personal," James told her, his hands stuffed in his pockets and his eyes turning off.

She cleared her throat, "No. I understand." She shook her head, her eyes darkening with memories. "My partner in the program was my husband. It's what started our relationship actually." She bowed her head, her mouth thinning in thought. Her hand fell into the sweater, pulling up a chain and holding a gold ring up to the light. It winked at them, looking brilliant and beautiful as it hung from her fingers. "He was killed... two months ago," she whispered, her eyes set firmly on the rings.

Remus felt himself still, his breath rushing out of him. He could see James' sorrowful expression from the corner of his eyes and Sirius wince, acknowledging their mistake in bringing up the subjects they had. It had been so recently, there was no wonder that she had been so sad looking. Her eyes were void of any real happiness, and everything that should promote enjoyment came out hollow and empty most of the time. She seemed to radiate pain, and in that moment he had to stop himself from not actually hugging her. He wasn't naturally a very physically comforting person, but when she was the one in need of it, he had an urge that came out of nowhere that he should be there for her. It was as if he had known her longer than he had, perhaps always. Kindred spirits in a manner that had no explanation.

Her chin lifted, mouth quivering with her next few words, "Death Eater attack. They'd been after us for years, more so in the last while though. They'd... they'd already gotten all my friends, my parents, my allies. But..." She sighed, tears filling her eyes, "They had yet to get us and he..." She swallowed audibly, "He was all I had left. He kept telling me that we were going to make it. If no one else did, we'd still have each other. But then... then he was laying in the street and there was nothing but blood all over him. It was just pouring from his stomach and he kept telling me..." She exhaled heavily, her words becoming croaky and tear filled. "He kept saying I had to go on, I had to finish it. That he loved me but he couldn't... That his journey had ended," she breathed. She sniffled, her voice shaking horribly, "He was the last person I had left. Everything else had been taken from me." She closed her eyes tightly, shaking her head.

Suddenly James was holding her and Remus followed after him. She was sobbing against James' chest, her hands hanging limply by her sides. Remus wrapped one arm around her back and the other around James. When another person joined the unexpected hug, Remus looked up to see Sirius there, his expression one of compassion. For that moment, if never again, she was not their professor. She wasn't a Werewolf Tamer, or Remus' last chance at a real future. She wasn't anything but someone suffering, and they were offering her the embrace she so dearly needed. She shook against them, her hands slowly lifting to grab hold of them. Her fist balled up the side of Sirius' shirt, clinging to him, while her other one snaked around Remus' back, holding him close, her fingers pressed against him as if worried he might disappear from beneath her hand.

When her crying subsided, they drew back, but not far. They looked to be crowding her, but she didn't force them away, instead giving them a sad half-smile. "I'm sorry," she whispered, shaking her head. "That was inappropriate and unprofessional," she admitted with a soft chuckle. "

"Don't worry, we won't tell," Sirius promised, giving her a wink.

She nodded, wiping at her face furiously. "I don't usually talk about him. I haven't..." She shook her head, her eyes tightly closing. "I usually react with anger. I've been forcing myself not to feel and to instead focus on justice and redemption." She inhaled shakily, hugging her arms around herself. "Albus keeps trying to bring it up, but I change the subject when I can." She sniffled, shrugging her shoulder lightly. "I don't know why I keep telling you boys these things, you shouldn't have to... You shouldn't have to think about what goes on out there, not yet anyway."

"We _should_ know," Sirius told her, nodding. "We shouldn't be kept in the dark. People are dying! They're fighting and they're losing their lives. We shouldn't be told we're safe and that there's no threat when there isn't. We should be getting ready to fight too, we deserve to be apart of all this. We're strong and capable. We can fight them!" He sounded incensed and sure of himself, as though he could destroy any Death Eater that appeared right then. He had the right idea. Remus didn't think it was right for the students to be purposely misinformed, but they weren't ready to fight in a War just yet. They were all still children.

"Have you ever dueled, Sirius?" Hermione asked him, her eyes staring at him pointedly.

"Of course," he boasted, grinning, "And I've won every time."

"Yes, and did you or your opponent use any of the Unforgivables?" she asked, her brow lifting.

"N-no, of course not," he replied, looking shocked.

"Right, and d'you think that the Death Eaters will be so generous?" When he didn't answer, she continued, "I have been cursed, hexed, and turned into a statue. I've faced Mountain Trolls, giant Wizarding Chess boards, Giants, werewolves, fully grown three headed dogs, Basilisk's, Devil's Snare, Dementors, and Death Eater's, all since I was just eleven years old. Don't be so quick to grow up, Sirius, you might not like what you find." She frowned, "Now I agree that you are unprepared and not properly informed on the war and the people who are fighting in it, so I take no issue in telling you everything I can. But you will not become a part of this war until I've trained you to properly defend yourself. Do I make myself clear?" she queried, staring at him. "If I find out you've run headfirst into any battle, I will personally see to your punishment," she warned.

Everybody was silent for a long moment, before James queried, "You've had an Unforgivable put on you?"

She licked her lips, "Numerous times. The most recent was the day before I arrived here," she admitted.

Remus' eyes widened in shock, "Then what were you doing walking around and appearing in front of werewolves?" he asked incredulously. "You would have been weak, tired, and likely very sore!"

She shrugged, "I was strapped for time, I had to do what had to be done. It was fine. My injuries were taken care of shortly after it happened and I was all right to come here." She rose from the desk, looking at each of them. Even Peter had come closer, taking an interest in what she had to say. "It wasn't the first time and it won't be the last."

"How do you do it?" Remus asked, taking a step closer to her and finding himself pressed against her leg. His hand sat near hers, wanting to reach out and take it but not moving. She was so close he could smell her even more than usual. There was a scent all her own mixed in with a muskier and more male smell. It reminded him of the woods, of trees and fresh air. He deduced that the sweater was her husband's, but couldn't understand why the scent was so very familiar. He didn't want to be rude, so he didn't lean in like he very much wanted to. It was bothering him that he couldn't figure it out.

"Do what?" she wondered, her brow wrinkling.

He was caught off guard by the need to smooth out her forehead and soothe her, but looked away to gather himself. "Keep fighting when so much has been taken from you. You said it yourself, you've faced so much already. You've lost everyone that mattered and you've been harmed for twelve years. When are you going to just... give up? I mean when is the right time to just admit defeat?"

She stared at him, her head cocked to one side. "Never. There is never a time to admit defeat, not for the right side. The world is made up of the good and the bad. Yes, many of those who were good have been taken, so many I can't even count them anymore," she admitted, her eyes glossing over as she gazed up into his eyes. "But, all of them, everyone I've lost, they would want me to keep going. They... They trust me to finish it. Believe in me to make their deaths worth it. If I were to stop, if I were to just lay down and tell everyone else to go on without me, then it would be as if they all died in vain," she explained, staring up at him searchingly.

"But it's not up to you to save the world, Professor G. You're only one person," James told her quietly.

"Call me Hermione in private, James," she replied, before shaking her head. "And you don't quite understand. It's not something I can't really explain to you, not yet anyway." She sighed, pursing her lips for a moment. She looked at Sirius, her expression one of uncertainty. Finally, she said, "If James were to be killed when you walk out of this classroom, how long would you spend on finding his killer and fighting for his memory?" she asked him.

Sirius' eyes fell and then looked over to James. He blinked, "Forever," he admitted simply. "I'd never rest."

"And you, Remus," she said, turning back to him. "If you lost Sirius, James, and Peter, how far would you go to make sure that their deaths were not for nothing?"

"As far as I had to," he replied, his eyes falling.

"James," Hermione said, turning to look at him. "I've lost every person who has ever meant anything to me. I've seen innocent children slaughtered, honorable people killed, and devoted families murdered without second thought. I've faced Voldemort on the battlefield and I have the nightmares and scars to show for it. Many have seen what I have, felt what I have, and some of them will give up. My friends, my family, my husband, would _never_ give up. They would turn the world over fighting for what they believe in." She shook her head, her mouth tightening. "You're the one who reminded me that Harry would never simply lay down in defeat, he would have fought to the bitter end. And I would have thought him courageous. You all think it was courageous what I did."

She shook her head, her eyes washing over all of them. "One day, when I'm long gone and you're living in a world where you're all free to be who and what you want, you'll look back on this day and you'll know..." She shook her head, her eyes tear filled and her smile warming, "You'll know that it was all worth it for me. You'll know that when I died, I died knowing I was doing it for a cause. And I'll have no regrets, not one. Because when I'm dead, _he'll_ be dead. I won't rest until Voldemort is nothing but a bad memory for everybody," she vowed.

"You're not like anybody I know," Sirius told her, his brow furrowed. The other three Marauders nodded their head in agreement, each looking at her in a different way.

Hermione shrugged it off modestly, "Maybe you should get out more," she said, trying to play it off humorously.

Sirius smiled but then shook his head. "I'm sorry I doubted you."

The three remaining Marauders turned to him in rapt shock. Sirius Black _never_ apologized. It just wasn't done. He could hold a grudge and believe he was right even if it was proven that he was wrong. He didn't admit defeat to anything, and he hardly ever took back his first assessment of a person. The only people he ever apologized to were the Marauders and James' parents. Any other apology was forced and a complete lie. But he sounded quite honest and actually apologetic.

Hermione stared at him a moment and Remus wondered why she even hesitated to believe him. She wouldn't know him well enough to think he wasn't one to apologize. "You had right to be suspicious, Sirius. If you took everything at face value, you're quite likely to get yourself killed prematurely." She shook her head, "I'll tell you now because I don't want you to later think that I've lied to you, but my reason for being here has a great deal to do with all of you. Now it doesn't have to do with your deaths in any way, like you probably worried about, but instead your lives." She sighed, frowning and rubbing at her eyes. "It's too dangerous and far too important for me to tell you right now. But I want you all to know that no matter the situation, no matter what happens, your lives are my top concern. I don't care if I'm in the middle of a class, or if its a full moon out and you're out in the Forbidden Forest in your animagi forms," she told them, shaking her head. "I will always be here to help you and make no mistake... I will do everything in my power to keep you alive," she promised, staring at them seriously.

As one, they all nodded, apparently agreeing that she really was to be trusted with their lives. Remus knew that he meant it when he agreed, it was a natural reaction. He didn't even have to question whether she was to be trusted, he felt it was right and he didn't take issue with the fact that he'd only had five encounters with her thus far. James' firmly set jaw told him that he too agreed she was to be trusted, while Sirius' downcast eyes said the same thing. It was meant in a way that said he wasn't questioning her, but instead admitting that maybe he needed someone to look out for him. And Peter's anxious nod could be taken as his need to be like his friends, which Remus assumed it to be. He obviously didn't feel the need to reach out or even take much interest in the intriguing new DADA professor.

Hermione nodded, "Okay, now that that's out of the way, and I've already embarrassed myself by crying all over you," she said, smiling with the odd way things had turned out, "Was there a specific reason you all came to see me?" she wondered.

Remus nodded, crossing his arms as he felt rather uncomfortable. "I, uh, I've thought over your offer and I want to... accept," he admitted, nodding uncertainly.

"Wonderful," she praised, her eyes shimmering with excitement. "I already had the potion made for you if you wanted it, so we'll give you half this coming full moon." She turned to the other three boys, "You can join us if you like, but there's a possibility that a young man named Brighton will also be joining us. He's a first timer for the program also, and just a year older than you. He's a little shy, or at least he was with me. He was just released from the Ministry for a minor indiscretion--"

"Is he a criminal?" Peter cried out, shocked.

"Not exactly," she replied, shortly. "He _was_ charged with a few minor crimes, but I had his record cleaned when I went there a few days ago." She shrugged daintily, "I spoke to the Head of the Magical Law Enforcement and promised that he would be a changed person under my supervision."

"You have that power?" James asked, surprised.

She blushed lightly, "Well, I didn't when I walked in. I'm very persuasive though. I explained my program and told them that I'd be back every day until they released Brighton into my care."

"Why?" Sirius asked, lifting his brow. "Why does he matter so much?"

"Everybody matters, Sirius," Hermione told him, her brow furrowing. "And Brighton has the makings of a wonderful man. He's trainable, all werewolves are. He has the drive to become a controlled and good person. He made a few mistakes, but I'm almost certain that he'll make the right choice and join us for the full moon."

"Doesn't he have to?" Sirius hook his head slowly, "They released him to you, so he has to do what you say, doesn't he?"

She shook her head, chewing her lip for a moment. "Well, I told him it was up to him actually. I gave him some money and told him where he could find me." She shrugged as though it was nothing.

"You broke this bloke out of jail, gave him some money, and told him he could either believe in something that seemed utterly impossible or go on with the life he had before you showed up?" Sirius looked so incredulous Remus had to laugh.

"When you put it that way I sound nutters," Hermione sniffed, frowning.

"Well it wasn't the most sane thing to do," James said, grinning.

Before anybody could say anything else the doors suddenly opened and a girl walked in, slowing as she noticed who else was there. Bright red hair that shimmered like a blazing fire hung straight down the girl's back, while bright green eyes stared out in a welcoming way. "Miss Evans," Hermione said, looking over at her questioningly. "How can I help you?"

"Hullo Professor, I was just... I just wanted to talk to you about the assignment earlier and, well, coming assignments," she said, her eyes darting from the grinning Marauders to the professor.

"Professor G, this is my lovely Lily," James proclaimed, hurrying over to stand beside her.

Hermione smiled lightly, "Lovely Lily, is it? And what does she call you?" she queried, amused.

"Potter the Pest," she replied, glaring up at him. Her eyes suddenly widened as she realized who she was speaking to and she turned to look at Hermione with surprise. "Oh, I mean--"

Hermione laughed, shaking her head. She waved her hand to stop Lily's apology and then smiled at them. "Still in _that_ stage, I see," she commented.

"Been in that stage for years," Sirius told her, hopping up on the desk beside her and shaking his head with feigned exasperation. "He says this is _the_ year, but then he said that last year."

"And the year before that," Remus added, smirking.

"And the one before that, too," Peter put in, slowly gaining more comfort around Hermione as he stepped a little closer.

"Unless the next stage is Potter realizing I don't share his feelings and finally giving up, then I'm afraid we'll always be stuck in this one," Lily replied firmly, though her eyes said another thing, and her blush was telling of her like of James' attention. He kept taking steps closer to her, bumping her as he tried to stand close enough to wrap his arm comfortably around her.

"You rather remind me of how my friend Ron was with a girl named Luna. She was always standing near him and telling him how wonderful he looked that day, or how she'd quite like to go out with him if he wasn't busy. But Ron was very adamant on telling her that he wasn't interested in her that way, even got disgruntled with her a few times," Hermione said, nodding.

"What happened to them?" Lily asked, curiously, her brows lifting. "I bet she finally gave up and he was left in peace," she said pointedly, staring up at James. He grinned back at her before looking over at Hermione, as if knowing what she was going to say.

"He finally gave in and they dated for a year before they got married. They had a beautiful little girl named Brooke," she informed them, her eyes twinkling.

Sirius and James clapped their hands to each others in a form of triumph, while Remus laughed and Peter smiled out at the couple knowingly. Lily frowned, casting her eyes downward. Remus was fairly sure that she was smiling beneath her forced frown however. "Well, I don't see that happening in the near future," she claimed.

"Ron would've said the same thing. Actually, he said, '_You're bloody nutters! Me an' Luna are too different to like each other. She doesn't even care for Quidditch! She keeps askin' me what the bloody hoops are for! I tell ya, it'll **never** happen_!' He was wrong, of course, they were in love in no time." She swung her legs back and forth, "He'd liked her for awhile, he just wasn't sure she could handle the lives we led or that anybody would approve. She was a little... odd. And well, Ron had a tendency of saying the wrong thing. Not very good with emotion that one. Wasn't the quickest wand of the pick, either, but he was very brave."

Lily stared at her a moment, curious confusion in her eyes. Finally, she shook her head. "What d'you mean by the 'lives that you led'?" she queried, her brow furrowing.

Hermione pursed her lips, her eyes moving away for a moment. "It's a long story. Now, were you interested in seeing your grade for you essay then, Miss Evans?" she asked, hopping down from the table and averting the girl's attention. "You were quite well versed in the background of werewolves, any particular reason why?" she wondered, pulling out a rolled up piece of parchment and handing it to the Headgirl.

Lily paused, her shoulders stiff and unmoving. "I like to be well read on most things," she said finally.

Remus stared at her and then looked at James to see if perhaps he looked guilty. Did Lily know then? Had she figured out Remus' 'furry little problem'? He felt cold all over and though he knew Lily to be a good person, he still worried over what she thought of him. Did she see him as a monster and only treated him civilly because it was the right thing to do outside of the full moon?

"Have you really spent time with werewolves, Professor Granger?" Lily asked curiously.

"Lots," Hermione replied, nodding. "I know numerous werewolf clans actually. They're all quite wonderful people. A little rambunctious one night of the month, but kind all the same."

"And they've never attacked you, or even looked as though they might?" she asked, sounding surprised. Her green eyes were wide and staring straight at the professor with something akin to wonder and excitement.

Hermione chuckled, nodding. "Oh I've been attacked tons of times," she told her.

Remus turned to look at her in shock. "You have?" James and Sirius too were staring at her with wide eyes. "But you said you weren't..."

"I'm not," she told them, shaking her head. "No, they've come at me numerous times. I've been saved by the other werewolves, most often my husband. They became very protective of me in my line of work." She smiled softly, "The youngest one, Jacques, started the name _Mère Loup_, which means--"

"Mother Wolf," Lily interrupted, blushing seconds later as she realized she had cut off a professor. "Sorry."

"It's fine," Hermione told her. "And you're right. Another friend, he was much older than me, he always referred to be as _copil_ or, on occasion, _pui de lup_. The first means child, cub, baby, that sort of thing, and the other means wolf pup." Crossing her arms, she leaned back against a desk. "My husband and I were very welcome in the clans, honored even. He used to kid that I was the Queen of the Werewolves," she told them, shaking her head and wrinkling her nose.

"Exactly what kind of work would bring you close to werewolves?" Lily asked, her eyes staring at her in confusion.

"A teaching position," Hermione replied easily, shrugging her shoulders. "They teach me the ways of the werewolf, and I teach them control."

Lily's eyes widened dramatically, "Control," she repeated in shock. "But... But you can't... Werewolves have a natural reason to attack humans. If your theory is correct and they attack out of fear, what gives you the ability to assure them that they're safe before they could attack? Even if your husband is a werewolf, he wouldn't have his right mind set when he changes," she exclaimed, looking more excited than disturbed by the idea.

Hermione stared at her a long moment and then turned her eyes on the Marauders, as if seeking whether the young girl was safe to share the information with. "You can tell her," Remus assured, shrugging. "She's not going to spread your secret if you don't want her to." He realized in that moment that even if Lily did know about his monthly change, she hadn't told anyone. So even if she was scared or repulsed by him, she cared enough not to ruin his life by telling the school. He silently thanked her for that.

"There's a potion that you'll never have heard of," Hermione told her, shaking her head when Lily tried to interrupt. "It's called Wolfsbane and it gives a werewolf back its human senses during a transformation..." From there Remus and the others listened to her explain how she gave half of it to the werewolf subject, just enough for it to understand her when she tells it to do something or not to attack. Then she went on to tell them about how she studied similarities in werewolves and soon learned a language from them, one that involved body movement and certain noises. She explained to them that she could have conversations with werewolves, though stinted, and that she knew enough to tell them quite simply that she wasn't any harm to them, easily deterring them from attacking her.

"What does this movement mean?" James asked, waving his arm down in an arched swipe. He didn't elaborate on how he knew it when Lily looked at him skeptically, but Hermione nodded, knowing what he was talking about.

"Protector," Hermione told him, smiling lightly. "Basically it tells the werewolf that you're there to protect it, not attack it. It's not usually used to ward off werewolves, usually you just tell them you don't want to harm them with a completely different movement and a sound. However, if you plan on being around the same werewolf for long periods of time and you want to mark them as your own, you make that movement. The wolf will never forget you and will honor that vow for the rest of their life. It's a trade off. If you make the sign and they nod agreeably, then they're telling you that they'll be your protector too."

Remus looked at James who was grinning and Sirius who shoved him and winked. He had no idea what they were talking about or why they really knew the movement until it suddenly dawned on him. When Hermione first met him, she must have swiped it in that direct way, and the wolf inside him must have agreed. "So you're safe then? If you ever see that same werewolf again? No matter the situation, it won't ever harm you?" he asked, anxious and hopeful.

"Never," Hermione agreed, smiling. "It made a conscious decision to protect me as long as I protect him."

"Fascinating," Lily breathed, shaking her head. "I only came here to talk to you about future work, but I never expected to learn all this. It's really quite brilliant, professor, how did you think of it?" she wondered, leaning in eagerly to hear the answer.

She hesitated again, but then replied, "At the time Voldemort was recruiting werewolves for his side. I was working with an elite group of people who were very much against Voldemort and his influence. Werewolves are incredibly strong, even outside of their form. They have a natural ability that aids them in every situation. Heightened sense of smell, sight, hearing. They can move with great agility, attack with maximum force, and all around be a huge asset in wars. One of my professors when I was younger was a werewolf, and he was ostracized terribly for being what he was. He was my initial inspiration really. He was brilliant and very capable but society wouldn't accept him because of his... _affliction_. It wasn't right at all. They're just as human as everybody else. They're actually very kind and childlike in their werewolf forms. If it wasn't for people hunting them, we could all live in peace." She sighed, shaking her head. "So, I spoke to a friend of mine about starting a program, the Wolfsbane potion would be used as an aid. For one full year I worked with him, learning all that I could about his ways. Soon, others joined in and before I knew it, I had drawn most of them away from Voldemort. They just wanted equality and Voldemort was promising them a world where they wouldn't be different. It was a lie. He was sending them out first so that they would take the brunt of it. He only hoped that they would take down a lot of people when they died. He doesn't care for life, only for power. I offered them what they deserved."

"Brilliant," Lily replied, staring up at Hermione with awe. She turned suddenly, staring straight at Remus. "So will you do it? It would be such a great opportunity for you Remus. You wouldn't have to be afraid any more. People would have no reason to look at you differently." She looked eager and excited for him. Remus stared at her, surprised that she would just come right out and say it. Lily seemed to realize her mistake almost immediately and turned to look at James and then Hermione. "She does know right, I didn't just completely ruin your life?" she asked meekly.

"No, she knew," James told her, his brow high. "But we didn't know _you_ did!"

"Oh," Lily shrugged, "I've known since third or fourth year. It wasn't that hard to figure out."

"And... and you never told," Remus said, his voice a breathy whisper.

Lily looked mildly hurt by the assumption. "Of course not. It's something very personal and I don't have any right to tell people something that is so obviously yours to tell. Besides, if the parents of certain students found out, you could be expelled." Her expression twisted with displeasure. "That wouldn't be right at all, Remus." She glanced at James, "I mean, honestly, you're the only sane Marauder!" she exclaimed, hiding her smile with a frown.

Remus laughed, though it came out rather strangled.

"Group hug!" Sirius shouted, throwing his arms out wide. Only James accommodated him, leaping off the ground and into his best mates arms. "I'm so glad we could all have this moment together!" he said, fake sniffling and wiping a non-existent tear from his cheek.

"Me too, Padfoot," James said, moving to sit by him but keep an arm around his shoulders. "Me too!"

Lily rolled her eyes at them before turning back to Remus, "So you're going to do it, aren't you?" she asked hopefully.

"Yeah," Remus said, nodding before turned to look at Hermione. "Yeah, Professor Granger told me all about it a few days ago. She's going to be working with me this coming full moon."

"Wow," Lily said before turning around and looking at Professor Granger again. "D'you think you could teach me? Or, that I could learn just a few more words from you? I'd really love to learn more about this."

Hermione looked quite surprised, "Nobody's ever asked me to teach them, actually."

"Oh," Lily said, her brow furrowing. "Is it teachable? Could I learn?"

"I've never thought about it, but I'm sure it is." Hermione shrugged, looking thoughtful. "I'm going to have my hands quite full, but I'll teach you a few words so you can speak to them. I don't think it would be terribly smart to invite you along to the first few meetings. Especially if Brighton is going to be there."

"Why are you so sure he'll show up? I wouldn't if I were him," Sirius told her, shaking his head.

"Yeah, Professor G, I don't know if I'd be so willing to come chasing after a dream when I was given money and sure freedom,"James admitted, frowning.

"He'll come," she replied, softly. Glancing up, her eyes must have caught the clock because she announced, "It's nearly dinner time. You should all head down to the Great Hall."

"Oh," Lily said, sounding quite disappointed. "Well, if you aren't too busy tomorrow after classes, then perhaps would could talk more..." she said hopefully.

"Sure." Hermione turned to the Marauders, smiling lightly. "I'm glad you all came by. It was really nice talking to you all."

"You'll be seeing a lot of us in the future, Professor G," James told her in what sounded like a humorous warning.

"Likely not always in the best of situations either," Sirius admitted, smirking.

"Well, I was never under the assumption you were perfect little angels," Hermione told them, smiling.

A sudden shriek drew their attention. Lily had spotted the three headed dog and after shouting her shock, she stumbled back into James and grabbed onto his arm. Remus chuckled as James looked quite smug about her attaching herself to him and was grinning madly over it. "Have no fear, my lovely Lily, I will protect you from the vicious beast."

Remus snorted, shaking his head. "I don't think _Fluffy_ is anywhere near vicious, Prongs."

"There's a glint in his eye, wouldn't you say Padfoot?" James announced, stroking his chin and casting a fake suspicious look down at the cute puppy who now sat panting up at the people around him, eyes wide and curious.

Sirius bent down and picked the heavy dog up. "Oh yeah, real killer this one," he said, petting it affectionately.

Hermione smiled, reaching out to take the dog from his arms. "He's perfectly harmless, Miss Evans. Just a whole lot of bluster in the beginning and then he becomes a little baby." She smirked, glancing up at the boys, "Like every male is."

"Oi!" Sirius exclaimed, frowning. "I bow to no one! I'm as mean as--" He was cut off when Hermione reached out and scratched him behind the ear. His foot suddenly started jumping up and down against the floor and his eyes fluttered shut. He leaned into her hand and made something akin to a bark of gratitude. He only noticed his actions when the laughter around him interrupted his thought process. Shaking his head, he glared at her, though it held no edge. "Low blow," he mumbled.

"All bluster," she countered, shaking her head. Petting Fluffy's head, she looked around them. "All right you lot, off to dinner with you. I'll see you all bright and early tomorrow," she assured, walking toward the stairs leading to her office.

"You coming to dinner?" Sirius wondered.

"Why? Planning on playing another prank?" she asked, glancing back at them. "Make sure you get enough dinner this time. You can only be sleepwalking your way to the library so many times," she said, winking.

"No pranks, not tonight," James told her, shrugging. "Noticed you didn't show up for breakfast though."

"Nerves," she admitted, leaning against the railing on the first stair. "That and I wanted to be sure the classroom was set up."

"Nerves over what, you seem to know what you're doing," Remus told her, shaking his head.

"I'm only six years older than you, I figured I'd have more problems," she admitted.

"How did your other classes go?" Sirius asked, leaning against one of the desks.

"Great, actually. No problems." She smiled. "This teaching business is easier than I expected."

"It's only the first day, it'll get more interesting as the year goes on. Just you wait, things will be exploding, students will be dueling, and you'll become so frustrated, you'll hex Snape horrible," Sirius told her, grinning.

"And why would I take my anger out on Mr. Snape?" she queried, her brows lifted with amusement.

"It's a natural reaction. You'll see!" James told her, nodding.

"Potter, Black!" Lily chastised, shaking her head. "You really shouldn't be so mean to him. Maybe if you guys weren't so cruel, he wouldn't be so mean back. It's a never ending circle. If you left him alone, everybody could live in peace and quite for once," she scolded, looking quite angry.

"You just don't understand, Evans," Sirius said on a sigh.

Remus had to admit that they could often be quite cruel to the Slytherin boy. It wasn't always undeserved, but it had become a rather mean game for Sirius and James over the years. Snape was rather weird though, always so interested in the Dark Arts. He had a lack of good hygiene that was always up for ridicule and ran with a group of Slytherin's that tended to pick on kids just as much as James and Sirius picked on Snape. It really was a never ending circle but Remus didn't want to get in the middle of James and Sirius' affairs. They had their reasons and he didn't want to make them mad at him for disagreeing with their treatment.

"There are some thing that I accept, boys," Hermione announced, bringing their attention back to her. "Late night strolls to the Kitchens for a snack, small pranks on fellow classmates as long as they aren't out of control, and friendly banter between friends. But I won't tolerate bullying!" she told them firmly. "You may not agree with Mr. Snape, and you may not like him, but I don't want to hear about you terrorizing the boy. He has his own reasons for being the way he is."

"But Professor, he's always trailing behind us, trying to find a way to get us into trouble," Sirius exclaimed, looking mildly worried.

"Then don't do anything that'll get you into trouble, Sirius," she told him, sighing exasperatedly.

She had a point, Remus admitted. As long as they held back just a bit, maybe Snape would just back off after awhile. He'd eventually get bored if they weren't even acknowledging him any longer.

"But..." Sirius sighed, crossing his arms and shaking his head. "Fine. If he doesn't attack us, then we won't attack him. Simple as that."

"Verbally, magically, or physically," Hermione told him, pointedly.

Sirius turned his head to her quickly, acknowledging that she had found his loophole. Through grit teeth, he admitted defeat with his growl of, "Fine!"

"Good," she said, sounding rather cheery. "Now, off to supper, all of you. By the Gods, I never thought any of you would put off eating this long!" she joked.

"She has a point, Padfoot!" James said, his eyes wide. "I believe we've missed ten minutes of very important eating time!"

"Merlin, Prongs," Sirius exclaimed, throwing his arms out. "If we don't hurry, I may just starve to death right here."

"To the Great Hall," James said, throwing his finger up in the air and marching toward the classroom doors.

Lily snickered, but called goodbye to Professor Granger and followed the two Marauders out, telling them how childish they were. Peter trailed along behind her, looking anxious and excited as he hung around James and Sirius, admiring their boisterous personalities. Remus hung around, watching as Hermione ascended the stairs, still looking radiant in her over sized sweater, Muggle jeans, bare feet, and holding a three headed dog in her arms. Her waist length hair swayed behind her, curls shimmering in the faint sun light coming through the windows.

"Hermione," he called, the name sounding rather foreign to his mouth, but melodic all the same.

She turned, smiling down at him expectantly. "Yes, Remus?"

"I just... I want to..." He shook his head, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "Thank you. I can't tell you how grateful I am. I never really thought that I could be... well, normal. And..." He sighed, feeling as though his words weren't enough. "I don't know how to repay you."

She stared at him a long moment before telling him, "You will live a long life. Far past your forties! You'll enjoy the friendships you have and bask in the freedom life is giving you for this moment. You'll fall in love one day and have a big family. You'll look society in the eye and firmly tell them that you are a person too. And when all is said and done, you will live this life, Remus Lupin. You will live it to farthest reaches of life itself." Her voice was shaky and emotional, though he had no understanding of why. "Promise me that, _do_ that, and you will have repaid your debt already."

He stared at her, for once feeling as though he could truly do as she asked. "I promise. I will!"

She nodded, and he was sure that a tear had fallen from her eyes. "Live free, Remus," she told him, before turning around and entering her office.

He didn't know what to make of her really. She was an anomaly; unlike anybody he really knew. She believed so much in things, but her beliefs were centered around those around her. She worked for the rights of others, fought for the freedom and redemption of people around her. He admired and respected her already, something he had never really felt for anyone but James and Sirius. It was an odd feeling and he wasn't sure what to do with it. He hardly knew her and still she was having a strange effect on him. The next year would be a troubling and confusing one, he could already tell. Oddly enough though, he felt as though Hermione would be there for him no matter what happened. There was a feeling of content that went along with that conclusion and he wondered if perhaps he was getting too close to the new DADA professor. They hardly knew her, but the Marauders had committed to going to her if ever any danger arose. Usually they dealt with everything on their own, but it was as though each of them felt it was right to offer her the position of protector over them. In the past, they believed each other to be their own protectors, so why would they now entrust their lives with her? He couldn't find a logical reason, but somehow felt it was right. Whoever Hermione Granger was, whatever her purpose for being there, Remus knew that she was somehow going to effect the lives of everyone he knew and cared about, hopefully for the better.

* * *

**A/N **_I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Sorry it took so long for me to post it! If you haven't already, I'd love for you to check out my new 4-part story "Survivor," a Harry/Hermione romantic/tragedy told from Ron's POV. It's already posted and complete, just waiting to be read. I'm received wonderful feedback for it so far, and even I cried while reading and writing it! So please drop on by and check it out. A new chapter to Blood Is Thicker Than Tears was posted about an hour ago! I'm working on "Growing," and I hope to have another chapter to "A Family Affair" out soon, too. Thank you for reading and reviewing, it's very appreciated!_

_On a personal note, my 20th birthday is this Monday! WHOO! lol. A lovely present would be some feedback from my wonderful reviewers ;)_

_Much Love,  
-**Amanda**_


	9. Eight

**Review offering insight to the story**:

"_Okay so here's my plan, just ponder with me for a moment. I suggest you put almost your full time in working on this piece than any of your other works. Why? Because as much as I love your other works this one blows them away. I love Growing, its sweet and adventurous with a lot of romance, but I can't help but feel that its too romantic at times (but I love the friendship), and well, I actually really want you to update A Family Affair so never mind! The Werewolf Tamer brings Hermione in a difficult situation with a new twist on a time turner fic that I have NEVER read before. This has the potential to be the best time turner fic out there. I'm not usually a Remus and Hermione supporter but you have me craving for it and it frustrates me to no end that I cna't find anything rmeotely good enough to read while I wait for you to update! I love this fic, I am intrigued by the Marauders and the theory you have on werewolves. The original characters fit in nicely. excellent work, well all of it is, but this is by far one of my favorites_." - **_Danielle_** of Fanfiction net.

**Thank you to the following reviewers**: _Hotkat144, killing u with umbrellas, Hermione Rulz, Jester08, Black-Rose23, bethygirl94, nelygirl, dumbledorelover, untamedspriral, Dizi 85, quiet-mg, amrawo, pstibbons, Lee Swain, **DeltaGamma Liv, Lupin's Mistress (Erika), DramaQueen4eva, Caligirl-HPLVR, brokenblackangel, Blair Sloan**_ and _especially **Danielle**, **hawkeyehellsing**, **laugh.live.learn**, **aureliasilver**, **mskiti** _and_ **galloping-goose**._

_**The Werewolf Tamer**_

_Eight_

The next few weeks for Hermione seemed to fly by. Brighton hadn't written or shown up, but she was still holding out hope for him. Since the Scottish Ministry hadn't contacted her with news that he had caused problems and the paper was free of any thing that might be connected to Brighton, she was sure he was staying out of trouble, at least. Albus hadn't yet found an exact location for Darnell, but he was close, of that he was sure. Hermione hadn't grown very fond of the rest of the professors that worked at Hogwarts, and stuck to the few that she did like. Professor McGonagall was easier to get along with in this time and Hermione found her to be quite comforting in the department of loss. Though they didn't talk often about Hermione's friends and family, on the rare occasion that McGonagall was able to get her to open up, she had been very nice to talk to.

Albus was still treating Hermione like a long lost friend and she couldn't help but enjoy every time they had tea or talked over meals. He was quite refreshing in this year, not so overwhelming in the capacity he had been in her time. The Dumbledore she knew was wise and careful, all knowing and rarely smiled near the end. He was weathered by the circumstances of war, though it could only be seen in darker times. He did have a certain energy about him that rarely seemed to dim. This Albus though, he was welcoming and easy going, always sharing information with Hermione. She wasn't sure though, if it was because she was from the future or if he truly trusted her. He admitted her true importance to very few in the Order, consisting of only those Hermione _knew_ to be trustworthy. McGonagall, Moody, and Gideon and Fabian Prewett were the few that had been told about her true origins and even they were put under a Wizarding oath never to share the information unless given direct orders by Hermione or Albus to do so. All the others only learned that she had been battling Death Eaters and Voldemort for years, but kept a very low profile. With recommendations that she be brought in from all those that knew her, including Hagrid even though he didn't know she was from the future, she was inducted into the Order of the Phoenix, the original group.

The first meeting was a bit of a disaster, given that so many weren't sure what she knew or whether to really trust her. Hermione put up with the questioning glances and curious questions but she wasn't letting much out. In her own Order she was still sure there had been a snitch, and knowing that Peter would eventually rat out the Marauders, Hermione was hesitant to trust many. Albus did ask her to share her Werewolf Project however, and she was warmed as she told them all about what she had accomplished and her belief in the system. That hope and warmth was dashed when so many of the Order announced it "preposterous" and "impossible". Given her serious passion for her work and her deep adoration for werewolves on a whole, she was quick to put them in their places. Some were still very skeptical, but she shrugged off their uncertainties. She knew what the clans were capable of and she knew that she could control them. It was just a matter of gaining attention from certain clans, and for that she would need Darnell and Brighton.

Classes were becoming second nature to her, and Hermione quite liked teaching all that she knew to the students. The Marauders had informed her that her class was by far the school favorite and that most of the students really liked that she was so honest about what was happening outside of Hogwarts. She had been teaching the younger ones basic defense, but not treating them as though all they could do was hope to escape. Stunners and a few smaller spells were what she had them learning, in hopes that knowing a few small spells would keep them safe until the older students were around. The older students, however, were getting a much more rigorous and complicated set of spells to learn. She used her knowledge of what Harry had taught her and combined it with what she had learned over her years. She didn't get them anything too complicated but she was adamant on them learning the Patronus Charm, and eventually all of the Unforgivables.

While most of her students really enjoyed her class, they learned that acting up wasn't to be tolerated. Numerous Slytherins weren't so accepting of her after awhile, stating that she purposely went after them. She didn't believe she was being nicer to any House, she was simply giving out Detentions and taking away House points where she saw fit. It wasn't her fault if the Slytherins chose to fight with the Marauders or taunt younger years, or even have the audacity to use the one word she simply would _not_ allow to be uttered. Mudblood. Yes, she'd heard Snape using it a number of times, mostly toward Lily Evans whenever she tried to defend him for getting the Marauders riled. The four boys were true to their word, basically, but they couldn't let Snape get away with mouthing them off and calling Lily names at every turn. Just the one boy had already lost a number of points for his House and gained a hefty amount of detentions too.

Just her luck, there was also a "Neville Longbottom" type in one of her classes too. His name, however, was Terry Bloomer, and he was a fifth year Hufflepuff that had a tendency to break everything he came in contact with. Most of his professors had given up hope of him ever becoming a successful student, but Hermione had made a vow that she would not just turn her back on him. He looked terribly upset with himself for not managing the easiest of spells and so she looked for help in others to bring him along. It was while she had her daily chat with the Marauders that she brought up the young boy.

They had made a habit of dropping into her class to see her and talk to her about whatever struck their fancy ever since the first day of school. She had to admit, she sometimes forgot that she was the professor and they were the students, they all seemed to get along so well. Even Lily showed up a few times a week, wanting to hear more about the Werewolf Project and get to know Hermione a little better. Aside from the one embarrassing and emotional show the first day, Hermione had quickly learned to cover her feelings and not tell them too much about what she knew. She kept her past locked up tight inside her, but still spoke to them about other things. She couldn't help but feel as though she was getting something Harry had always longed for though, just a few minutes with his parents. He would be proud of her though, he would certainly have backed her idea to change it all. Harry didn't deserve the life he led, and he should have been given the chance to live and love freely, without fear of being killed or losing those he cared for.

It was moments where she fell inside herself, got lost in her past and her memories, that everything seemed to swamp her in an endless sea of despair. Somehow though, the Marauders were able to bring her out of that darkness and keep her fighting for a better world. They'd made her laugh when it seemed the last thing on her mind, they'd cause a smile that felt foreign on her mouth after so long, and they'd truly brighten up the hollow life she felt she was living. It was seeing their faces, hearing their enjoyment of the world, and all around basking in the friendship they all had that reminded her that there was a better future out there. She had something to fight for, she had to remind herself of that. She may not have those she loved, the people she grew up would never be apart of her life like they had, but these people here could give all those she had a better existence.

James and Lily would give Harry a family, a real one that loved him dearly. Sirius would never be sent away to Azkaban, instead going on to live a full and joyful life. He would be a godfather to Harry, but never have to console the boy over his parents death. Remus would never have to deal with the loss of everything, but instead have his friends around him for the rest of his life. And perhaps one day he too would find love. Maybe Tonks would get the chance she had always wanted, Hermione didn't know and wasn't really sure if she really wanted to. Peter was someone else all together. She didn't know what to make of him. He was shy still, but he began opening up after awhile. He was in awe of his friends, that much was obvious. But sometimes he looked at them more as idols that best friends, and that worried Hermione.

It was a week before the full moon when Hermione brought up Terry Bloomer, and they were all lounging around her classroom. Her feet were bare and hanging off the edge of her desk, dangling back and forth as she read through a few essays from her third years, most of which were really quite badly written. Her hair was pulled up off her shoulders in a ponytail that left it hanging down her back in a heavy mass. She was dressed in Muggle attire, feeling overdressed in her robes whenever she had free time after classes. James and Sirius were tossing a Quaffle they had snagged from the Quidditch equipment room back and forth as they stood on top of desks, slowly gaining more space and trying to throw it so the other would fall off the desk. Remus was reading over some of his homework, his eyes roaming over the words of his textbook avidly. While Peter watched from atop one of the front desks, enjoying the show Sirius and James put on. Hermione had already warned them that if one of them got injured she wasn't going to take them to Madame Pomfrey but instead make them heal the Muggle way. And since Poppy was a friend now, she'd agree to let them suffer. They decided to take their chances anyway, not that surprising.

Hermione looked up from the essay's in her hands and looked around at the boys. Clearing her throat to get their attention, she said, "So... do any of you know of a boy named Terry Bloomer?" she queried.

Remus grimaced, lifting his head from his book. Peter snorted, shaking his head. While Sirius and James shot each other a look. "That's the voice, Padfoot!" James announced.

"Ah, yes, the '_I need a favor_' voice we've all become so... _fond_ of," Sirius replied, grinning.

Hermione sighed, rolling her eyes upward. "Honestly, he's not _that_ bad. He's just a little... clumsy."

"Hermione, I don't think clumsy is the word. In fact, I think he's been sent by You-Know-Who!" Sirius told her, tossing the Quaffle back at James as hard as he could. James caught it, nearly toppling over backwards. Smirking, Sirius nodded and looked over at Hermione's incredulous expression. "Yeah, the dark bastard is trying to kill us all! So he covertly sends in a boy, and has him blow everything up. Slowly, of course, just to keep us on edge. Then, one day, BOOM! We're all dead and You-Know-Who has successfully destroyed some of the greatest wizards alive." He nodded with a dramatic sigh, "It's true. He wants to kill the Marauders, I swear."

Hermione laughed, quietly at first, and then she simply couldn't stop herself. She was holding her sides as she thought of it, little awkward Terry Bloomer working for Voldemort. It was really quite a sight. For the boy was as skinny as a rail and always tripping over the ends of his pants, which were far too long for him. He always looked disheveled and his glasses were always sliding down his crooked nose, nearly falling off the tip. He had bright orange hair and a pale but friendly face. He was so little that he didn't look to be thirteen and Hermione had to admit that sometimes she wanted to pat him on the head and tell him not to worry, because things would get better when he grew up. Waving her hands, she came down from her laughing, and smiled at Sirius. It felt nice to be a little free with emotions other than sadness every once in awhile. "While I think that would be a _brilliant_ plan, in some ways, I don't believe little Terry has anything to do with Voldemort. And I do wish you boys would learn to use his name. There is no sense in calling him You-Know-Who, it just gives him more power. Fear in a name only makes him appear that much more cunning and powerful than you, and he's not!" she told them, shaking her head vehemently.

Remus nodded, before leaning forward and resting his chin on his palm. "What did you want to talk to us about Bloomer?" he wondered.

She twisted her hands and then hopped down from her seat on top of her desk. She was wearing billowy black flood pants that reached her knees, seeing as how the weather felt much too warm to wear full pants and she felt it would be even less professional to run around in shorts with the boys there. She had one of Remus' dress shirts on, in a flattering pale blue colour, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows and the last few buttons undone as it hung well down the middle of her thighs. Her pants seemed to be swishing around her legs as she walked and felt more like a skirt, which she didn't wear often. She stretched her arms up, her back sore from sitting for so long.

Coming up to the desk Remus was at, she leaned against the side of it. "Bloomer is a very nice boy who needs a little... encouragement from those who are much more advanced then him," she said, hoping to snare their interest with her thinly veiled compliments. "In fact, with a little help from the _brilliant _Marauders, I bet he'll be in the top of his class and completely charming, without one little accident at all," she claimed, though it was likely going to take awhile for him to get there.

"Well, obviously," Sirius said, grinning as he took a great bow. Smirking, he hopped down from the desk he standing on and walked over to her. "Why don't _you_ just teach him?"

"Because I have enough to do as it is. I'm working with Dumbledore, teaching classes all day long, getting ready for the full moon, and spending all my free time with you lot. Oh the injustice, where is a little time for me?" she kidded, smiling.

James shook his head, coming over with the Quaffle under his arm. "Without us coming around, you'd be holed up in this classroom all day long. Marking papers and reading _boring_ essays for hours on end. You'd become dreadfully dreary and you know it!" He winked, "You should thank us."

"I'll thank you after you do me this favor and tutor little Terry for awhile. He's really just in need of some attention from someone, I think he's uncomfortable. He's young and has very few friends, but he's such a nice little guy."

"You really have to stop calling him 'Little Terry'," Sirius told her, shaking his head. "He's thirteen, that's got to be damaging to his reputation."

"You mean his reputation of blowing everything he touches up and being an all around menace to nearly everyone without even meaning to?" Remus spoke up, his brow lifting with question.

"Yes, that would be the one," Sirius agreed, nodding. "But, com'on, how many blokes are going to want to be hanging around a boy who's referred to as 'Little Terry.' I wouldn't." He shrugged his shoulders, "Of course, now it seems I'm going to have to," he muttered on a sigh.

Hermione grinned, her eyes sparkling. "So you'll do it then? You'll tutor him a bit and perk up his self esteem? Honestly, I think him being seen around with the likes of you guys might actually make him look better to his peers. He'll become more known, more comfortable. It'll be good for him."

Remus chuckled, "You can stop complimenting us, we've already agreed."

"Oh, but I do mean what I'm saying," she told them hurriedly. "I think we all know that you're incredibly popular around here. It must be your good looks, because really it's the only wonderful trait all of you carry," she kidded. They all seemed to blush at her praise, Remus more so than James or Sirius, but Peter most of all. Hermione chuckled at their sudden boyish act of being awkward. "I'm certainly not the first to tell you, I'm sure."

"Of course not," Sirius exclaimed, shaking his head. "'Course you're the first _woman_ to tell us, besides our mums of course." He winked at her, "Not that I don't like the attention, from such a fetching woman as yourself," he said, wiggling his eyebrows.

Hermione chortled, shaking her head. "Shouldn't you be after someone your own age?" she queried, lifting her brow. "Or is it too hard to pick from the masses of girls throwing themselves your way?" she wondered.

"I like to keep my options open," he told her, shrugging it off easily.

"How old were you when you met your husband?" James asked, hopping up onto the desk to sit beside Remus' homework.

"Actually," she said, clearing her throat. "I was nearly fourteen when I first met him, but I didn't fall in love with him until I was about nineteen. We married within the year and were together for four years after that."

"Thirteen," Sirius whistled, his eyes wide. "Did you like him then too?"

"No," she said, her cheeks tinging with a blush. "No, he was... older than me, actually. I wasn't much interested in dating when I was thirteen. I started the next year though, a nice boy from a different school. He was seventeen and a big Quidditch star, had all the girls running after him." She smiled lightly as she thought about Viktor Krum and fourth year. "I had no idea why he liked me, I wasn't what you'd call a beauty." They stared at her with rather shocked faces and she couldn't understand why. "Anyway, I didn't see my later-to-be husband very often from when I was fourteen until I was nineteen, he was always working undercover and outside of the school. It wasn't until I was done school and we started seeing each other regularly because of the Werewolf Project that we became closer."

"When you say older..." Sirius said, looking at her with amused and curious eyes.

She cleared her throat, "Well..." She blushed again, feeling as though they might not understand. "In my third year, when I first met him, he was actually my DADA professor," she admitted.

"Really?" Sirius asked, sounding rather excited.

She rolled her eyes at him, "Yes, he was. I found out he was a werewolf early on but I didn't tell anybody about it. He was a brilliant professor, but because he was a werewolf he would eventually be taken out of his teaching position. So he quit before they could fire him, and he continued to work undercover against Voldemort. I'd see him occasionally through the next few years, but we were never really close or anything. And then when I graduated I started seeing him a whole lot more, and the Project just sort of cemented everything." She nodded, thinking back to how he was when they first started noticing they liked each other. He was rather awkward, like a young boy with a crush.

"I would never expect it," James said, shaking his head but smiling all the same. "So how much older than you was he?" he wondered, staring at her expectantly.

"Why does that matter?" she wondered, her eyes looking away. "Age was never really an interest to either of us."

"If he was teaching in your third year, he had to be at least ten years older than you. You're the youngest DADA teacher in history, so..." Sirius trailed off, his head tipped in thought.

"Twenty years," she admitted, deciding not to wait and draw it out. "He was twenty years older than me."

"Wow," James said, his eyes wide.

She nodded, "You wouldn't really know it though. He was very handsome and the nicest man I knew, really. He had a young heart and a wonderful sense of humor. He'd seen a lot in his life, lived through a great deal of despair. But, when we were together, he seemed much younger than he was. He felt younger, looked younger, acted younger." She shook her head, her eyes shimmering, "I never much cared for numbers, because he was quite simply the only man I could ever love." She felt a hand cover hers and looked down to see that Remus' palm was pressed over her hand, warm and comforting. Sniffling, she smiled down at him in gratitude, momentarily caught up in the amber gaze that met hers. He really was just like her husband, saying so much with a touch rather than words.

"Tell us more about him," Sirius asked, looking quite curious.

"What would you like to know?" she asked, turning to him.

"Anything really," he said with a shrug. "I'm interested in knowing what kind of bloke managed to catch someone like you." He paused, his cheeks stained with a tinge of red. "I mean, quite honestly, I think... I think I'd like to find someone like you."

She stared at him in confusion, not entirely understanding what he meant. Her brow furrowed. "Someone like me?"

"Yeah," he said, nodding. "You know, courageous, loyal, smart, funny, friendly..." He cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. "All the girls I know, they're kind of... well, they're all more interested in boys, make up, clothes, blood purity, money, blah blah blah." He shook his head, "You're the only woman I know who has any real substance. I was just sort of thinking that... maybe if I knew someone more like you, I might want more than just a..."

"Quick snog in a broom closet," Hermione filled in, smiling understandingly. He nodded, letting out a soft chuckle. "Well, perhaps the girls you know have more substance than they're showing you. I've noticed with a lot of girls, when they like someone, they get dolled up and they act a little... air headed," she said, chortling. "It's a common occurrence for women to be worried that boys aren't going to like them if they're smarter or quicker or anything better than boys. So they dumb themselves down in hopes that a cute boy will like them and not be intimidated."

"Lily's not like that," James jumped in.

"No, she's not," Hermione agreed. "Because she's comfortable enough in her own skin not to lower herself. She does have a tendency of reacting with anger when she likes someone though," she reminded pointedly.

James didn't understand her meaning and immediately looked annoyed. "Why? Who does she like? What have you seen?" he asked, crossing his arms and glaring.

Sirius laughed, reaching out and clapping him on the shoulder. "You, ya big dolt!" All of the bluster ran out of James and he grinned in a happy daze, looking as though Christmas had come early.

"Did you act like those girls did when you started liking your husband?" Remus asked her, looking up at her curiously. He looked sort of uncomfortable, like he didn't want to talk about the subject at hand and Hermione had no idea why it bothered him.

"Oh no," she said, shaking her head. "No, I hated make up and dressing up. In fact, my husband had already seen me at my worst, so I figured there was no point in trying to be something I wasn't. I dressed like I always dressed, talked like I always did. He knew I loved reading and learning, he was just the same. I didn't pretend to be someone I wasn't and I never expected him to act like anything but himself. Open honesty, that's the way it should be," she told him, nodding. He smiled lightly, his eyes falling in thought. Hermione was curious as to what he was thinking about but didn't ask.

"Did it ever bother you? His being a werewolf?" Remus wondered, his expression one of mild worry.

"In my third year it did scare me, but only because there was a bit of a scuffle one night. You see, he had been caught off guard by the full moon, too busy that day to remember what would happen that night. Me, Harry, and our other best friend Ron were nearby, along with a particularly nasty professor who just hated my husband at the time. The transformation sort of took him by surprise and while trying to keep him from attacking some of my friends, me and Harry lured him away. We howled to get his attention and he ended up chasing us into the forest." She bit her lip for a moment, "Actually, it could have ended quite badly had the Hippogriff that was hiding in the forest not come out and scared him off. I never feared him before that and after that night, I'll admit for awhile I was a little wary of werewolves. But, when we started the program, I had complete faith in him."

Remus stared at her with that same expression of awe he so often got. "Let me get this straight. He attacked and could have killed you once, but you had complete faith in him anyway? He was ready to kill you, your friends, and a professor, and you lured him away into the dark woods, thinking nothing of your own safety?" He shook his head at her, "Really now, how are you alive?" he wondered.

Hermione laughed, "I've often wondered that myself." She shrugged, shaking her head. "Back in my third year, oh you should have seen it, really. He was fighting it, he really was. He didn't want to change, I could see that he was fighting with the wolf inside so he wouldn't attack us either. But... at that time the fear was too much and the other professor was already getting ready to attack him, possibly even kill him. Harry and I lured him away to save everybody, us and him. He couldn't control what had happened and he was incredibly upset over it when he woke up the next day." She frowned, "And when I proposed the project he was very wary, he didn't want to take the chance of hurting me. But in the end, everything turned out fine."

"Sometimes, I wonder if you're courageous or just plain nutters," Sirius told her, smirking.

"I've been told that before," she said, smiling. "In any case, my advice to you, Sirius, is to get to know a girl away from the other girls. Don't introduce yourself right away, just sort of see what she's like when she's not around others. You'll see the real her. It won't be an act, it'll be a natural way of things for her. Then, if you decide you'd like to get to know her better, go up to her when there isn't an audience, it'll be more real and she won't feel as if she has to act a certain way. Try a few dates, nothing serious, but nothing too indifferent either. And that is how you find a girl who isn't superficial or unworthy of your attention." She nodded, feeling quite good about her response. She turned to James then, "How are things coming with Lily?" she wondered.

"Same as always, unfortunately," he told her, sighing. "I just don't get it," he cried with exasperation, shaking his head and frowning.

Hermione chewed her bottom lip, wondering if she should interfere. Perhaps just a little friendly advice couldn't hurt. "Ease down on the big gestures, James. Crowds and attention aren't something Lily likes. She's more down to earth. And you're quite theatrical and dramatic, I must say, so she likely thinks you're just putting on a show and that you don't really like her." She shrugged, "Don't worry, she'll come around."

He nodded, still frowning lightly.

She turned to Peter, "What about you? How are you on the female front, apparently I'm handing out advice to everyone today," she kidded.

"Oh... um... well I like a girl, but I don't... I don't think she likes me back," he admitted, shrinking away.

"I didn't know you liked anyone, Wormtail, who is it?" James said, leaning back and looking over at him questioningly.

"Is it a Hufflepuff?" Sirius asked, wrinkling his nose with distaste. "It's not Lavin, is it? Jessica Lavin, that know-it-all Ravenclaw."

"Must you call everybody some sort of name?" Hermione asked him, rolling her eyes.

"Of course, it helps distinguish who I'm talking about," he replied, grinning.

"Know-it-all Ravenclaw, that's not very definitive," she told him, shaking her head.

James laughed, "You realize you just basically insulted the entire Ravenclaw House."

Hermione blushed lightly, huffing her irritation at her own folly. "You know what I mean," she mumbled.

"It's not Lavin," Peter told him, frowning before he turned to Hermione. "She's, well, she's older than me. She works in Hogsmeade. She's just a year or two older and she has a job at one of the shops there. She's really nice and pretty, but she treats me like every other bloke in the store. I don't know how to... er... get her attention," he admitted.

Hermione thought it was, perhaps the most he'd ever said to her. "Have you ever tried starting a conversation with her?" she asked. He shook his head, looking embarrassed. "Well, it's a possibility that wherever she works she has an interest in. Like if she works at the book store, she most likely loves reading and books. So, pick something that has to do with the store and strike up a conversation. It'll center you out from the other customers. Don't do it when it's busy, because then she'll just think you're getting in the way. Just... ease into it. Don't bombard her with questions or ask her out on a date right away. Let her get to know your face, come by and see her every once in awhile. I guarantee, in a short while she'll start noticing you," she assured.

"Thanks," he said, smiling brightly.

She nodded, turning her attention down to Remus and swallowing rather thickly. She didn't want to ask, because honestly she had never wondered much about who Remus had been seeing when he was younger. She knew only about Tonks in his recent years during her time, but he had never actually gone out with the Metamorphmagus. Aside from her, Hermione had never thought to question him on anybody he might have liked when he was younger. She did remember him saying once though, when talking about his younger years, that he had never fallen in love. She pondered his words, his voice echoing in her ears, clear and deep. It gave her shivers as she thought about how his voice always felt like a caress against her skin. Her eyes closed and she envisioned the moment as if it were happening again.

_"When I was growing up, I never let anybody in. I never let love in. Not unless it had to do with my friends. I kept James and Sirius close. They were the closest thing I really had to family. I should have paid more attention to Peter, I suppose, but... Back then, I sometimes lost myself in the world Sirius and James created. It was as if... as if the world was new to me and I was untouchable," he told her, his eyes reminiscent and glazed over with memories. She waited for him to finish, watching as the emotions flitted across his handsome face. He let out a soft sigh, turning his eyes back to her and returning his mind to the present. He reached out, trailing his forefinger down the side of his face, slow and gentle as he stared into her eyes with obvious ardor. "Now though, I have you. I wish I had known you then, Hermione. I think, if anyone could've made a cautious Marauder werewolf fall in love, it would've been you." He shook his head, staring at her with shining adoration in his amber eyes. "I love you, Hermione Jane Lupin, and I wouldn't have it any other way._"

"Hermione," a voice called, dragging her away from her thoughts.

Hermione's eyes opened and she blinked quickly, remembering who was around her. Clearing her throat, she gave them a soft smile. "Sorry, I was just caught up in my memory there for a moment."

Sirius nodded before turning to Remus and smirking. "Well, since you've given advice to the rest of us, why not pass some on to our fourth," he said nodding to the werewolf Marauder who had ducked his head.

"D'you like someone too then, Remus?" she wondered, her voice much more steady than her heart. Could she possibly handle seeing him with somebody else? It was asking a lot of her, and the simple idea of knowing her husband was with anybody else was just plain heart wrenching. Even if this Remus wasn't exactly _her_ Remus, it still hurt to think of.

He shook his head quickly, his eyes downcast, but Sirius answered for him. "Sure he does. She's older than him though. He doesn't like to talk about it, but she's the first woman to really accept him as a werewolf."

"Oh, so you told her?" Hermione asked, looking down at him and hoping to catch his eyes, though they were diligently darting away from her gaze.

"Actually, she figured it out on her own," Sirius told her.

"Oh," Hermione said, nodding. "Well then, what's the problem exactly?"

"She's--"

"Guys," Remus interrupted, his voice steady and warning. He looked over at Hermione, looking sort of worried and uncomfortable. "It's nothing really. I don't want to talk about it."

She nodded slowly, feeling sort of relieved. "All right. Well, if you ever want to, you know where I am," she offered, shrugging lightly.

He nodded and then turned his gaze away.

It wasn't long after that the boys took their leave, promising that they'd check in on Terry Bloomer and give him a little assistance in the schooling area. Hermione went back to grading essays and getting the next day's classes ready for the students. Most nights she met Dumbledore for tea and talked about what was going on outside of the school. Her calendar had yet to inform her of anything, though she checked it numerous times a day. Albus told her not to think on it too much, otherwise she'd worry herself into a mess, but she couldn't help it. When she wasn't doing something to help, she felt as though she was useless. Time seemed to be going by without her knowledge and soon enough it was the day of the full moon.

Hermione stood in front of her Seventh year Gryffindor and Slytherin class, explaining to them a few of the more damaging hexes and curses she knew. She had transfigured a book into a dummy to show the effects of each spell and the class was sitting forward with avid fascination. It was just as she had finished using the _Diffindo_ charm that the doors burst open and a familiar face came hurrying in, panting and looking very worried. Hermione turned to him, her wand still in hand and her expression one of surprise. The Marauders were staring at him suspiciously, three of them had their hands readily on their wands as if waiting for him to attack. Hermione lifted her hand at them to tell them it was all right and they shouldn't be worried.

She opened her mouth to tell him that class was ending in just a few short minutes and she would talk to him then, but Brighton beat her to the punch. "I made a mistake," he told her, shaking his head and trying to breathe but only managing to slow himself down from talking. "I-I thought that what you offered wasn't possible. My whole life, every single day, I was told that I was a m-monster. And I believed it. I mean, once a month I turn into something that very few do. And if you could see peoples faces when you talk about it. If you could feel what I feel whenever it's brought up, then you would know what it's like to live with it." He waved his arms around and shook his head, "So many think I should die because of it, and so many times I thought I should! I should die, because I'm not worthy of living. I'm not worthy of doing what you told me I should do. Become a great person, live a good life. It just wasn't possible. And then you were there and you were telling me I could have it. And I-I never believed it, I thought... I thought maybe you were just feeding me this fanciful dream and one day I would wake up and I'd be back in that cell and I'd know that my life truly was over." He panted, tears coming to his eyes and he clenched his jaw. The bell rang in the background but not one student moved.

"That book you gave me, the one filled with all those things Buddha said. I read it. I read it five times. I couldn't believe it. I mean, everything he said, everything he believed. I just..." His eyes darted around before he balled his fists up by his side and said, "_No one saves us but ourselves. No one can and no one may. We ourselves must walk the path_." He smiled, though it was shaking and tears had spilled down his face, "You told me that when I had chosen my path, when I knew which way I wanted to go, you'd be there to help me. I know I'm not the best student, and I've already messed up more times than I can count. But... But I don't want to be an outsider anymore. I don't want to see them staring at me in fear, and... And you're the only one who's ever thought I could be anything more than a monster in a humans body twenty-nine days of the month," he told her, his voice quivering. "I..." He swallowed audibly, "Will you help me?" he asked quietly.

Hermione stood, tears falling down her cheeks and finally smiled. "Of course I will, Brighton." She stepped forward, reaching out and placing her hand on his shoulder. "And you are not a monster, I won't let you think that," she told him sternly.

He laughed, strangled at first, but then loud and happy. He reached out, wrapping her in a hug, and sobbing his thanks against her shoulder. Hermione patted his back, holding him as he cried out his feelings of inadequacy. He was much taller than her, so it was rather awkward trying to hold him, but she did it anyway. She motioned to the other students in the class to leave, it being lunch time now. Most of them did, though at a snail's pace, all of them wondering about what had just happened. The Marauders and Lily stayed however, all of them silent and waiting. When Brighton had finally calmed down, he apologized for his sudden display and pulled back, wiping his face quickly and clearing his throat a few times. She patted his arm and then turned to the other boys.

"Brighton, these are a few friends of mine." She motioned to the Marauders, pointing to each as she listed their name, "That's Sirius, James, Remus, and Peter. And this girl here is Lily," she said, motioning to the curious red head near her. "Uh, the boys will be joining us tonight. Remus," she said, motioning to him again, "also has a love-hate relationship with the full moon," she told him, smiling.

Sirius shrugged, digging in his pocket and pulling out a couple coins before he tossed them to James. "I really didn't think he'd show."

"When has Hermione ever been wrong!" James replied, grinning as he pocketed the money.

"You bet on it?" Lily cried, her eyes wide.

"Of course," Sirius replied, smirking.

She huffed, shaking her head in exasperation. "Really, when are you guys going to grow up?" she wondered, glaring before she turned away and looked over at the new boy. "Nice to meet you, Brighton," she said, holding out her hand for him to shake.

He glanced at Hermione, as if checking with her to see if it was all right. She nodded at him and smiled as he reached out and shook her hand in a loose grip, obviously worried he might exert too much strength and harm her. He reached up and rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly looking very nervous in front of so many people he didn't know. "Uh, so if only one of them is a werewolf, why are the others coming?" he wondered, his voice low.

"They're my friends," Remus replied, staring at the boy in a rather critical manner. "They always come out on the full moon with me."

"How do they manage to keep themselves safe?" Brighton asked him skeptically.

"We're unregistered animagi," Sirius boasted, grinning.

"I've been meaning to talk to you all about that," Hermione said, her eyes thinning. "I really think you should all go register at the Ministry."

Sirius sighed dramatically, falling across his desk and throwing his arms out wide. "But I don't want to," he whined.

James laughed, "Yeah, it takes all the fun out of it," he told Hermione, smiling.

"But it's such a feat, really I think a lot of people would be quite astounded by your mastering the skill at such a young age," Hermione told them, shaking her head. She turned to Brighton, "They learned it back in their third or fourth year. They wanted to be with Remus when he changed, so they took precautions. Werewolves aren't scared of other animals, just humans. So they simply play with them, rather than attack and hurt them. Not unless provoked anyway."

Brighton nodded slowly, "I've never had human friends," he admitted, shrugging. "I stuck to my pack, it was safer."

Hermione smiled lightly at him, "Well that's about to change." She turned to Remus, wondering why he looked so disgruntled. "Are you going to be coming by to get the potion after class, or do you want it now?" she asked him. He shrugged, his eyes not meeting hers. She sighed, deciding that she needed to talk to him about whatever it was bothering him. It could just be the full moon, she thought, but she felt as though it was something else. Turning to Brighton, she offered, "Why don't you make yourself comfortable? I'm going to talk to Albus about seeing if you can have a room here, and we'll see about getting you something to eat, all right?" He nodded at her, glancing at the others warily. "It's okay, Sirius and James won't bite. Peter is quite shy and Lily is very friendly."

"What about Remus?" he asked, his voice quiet so as not to let them hear.

"I do bite," Remus replied, obviously having heard the conversation. He shot a glare at the boy and then turned away again.

Hermione sighed, "No, he doesn't. Don't worry about him. Just sit down, I'll be right back." Without waiting for his reply, she crossed the room and gave Remus a look before walking toward the stairs leading to the office. Hearing a sigh behind her and then echoing footsteps, she knew he had followed just as expected of him. She frowned at Sirius as he made a noise to mock Remus' being forced to talk to her in private. She checked on Brighton, seeing him sit down at one of the desks, placing his side bag, which she was sure was filled with what little he had, on the chair beside him. Sure that he would be fine in the care of the three remaining Marauders, at least while Lily was there, she opened the door to her office and walked inside. It closed behind Remus and instead of sitting down, he roamed around the room, examining the area so as not to look at her. "D'you want to tell me what's bothering you?" she wondered.

He shrugged, not turning to to see her.

"Is it Brighton? Does it bother you that you'll be working with other werewolves?" she asked, watching his broad back as he shrugged his shoulders again. "Remus, I can't help you if you don't talk to me."

He sighed, turning around slowly and crossing his arms in a way that told her he wasn't comfortable sharing his thoughts or feelings. "I don't know. I just... I don't really like him."

Hermione shook her head slowly, "You don't even know him yet."

Walking over to the chairs in front of her desk, he sat down, his eyes turned away. "I know," he said, sighing as he rubbed at his eyes. "What I mean is... the wolf doesn't really like him. It's acting up and it- it doesn't really like it when he's around..." He mumbled the last word so she didn't catch it.

"Around what?" she asked, her brow furrowing.

"You," he clarified, looking away. "Maybe it's that whole protector thing you did, I don't know." He swallowed, his knee jumping anxiously as he stared up at a bookcase. He rubbed at his jaw, licking his lips occasionally. "Do I have to work with him? Couldn't I just... Isn't there another way?" he asked hopefully.

"No," she told him, sitting forward. "I understand that it bothers you, or the wolf, or whichever. It's a natural reaction. Werewolves are very possessive, Remus. You're not going to like your friends getting close to others. You won't like it when guys stand close to your girlfriend. And, I guess you see me as a mentor, or someone who will keep you safe and offer you shelter. So you're naturally very possessive of me. It's all right to feel that way," she assured.

"Was your, uh, husband, was he bothered when the other werewolves got around you?" he wondered, turning to look at her briefly before turning his eyes down.

She smiled, nodding. "Yes, he was very jealous. For the longest time he wouldn't allow any of the other werewolves within ten feet of me. It took some calming down, but he eventually allowed the others near. He kept very close to me though. And even outside of his form, he was always quite protective of me. He had a tendency of growling at males," she admitted with a soft laugh. "Even those I considered brothers or best friends." She nodded, her eyes turning off as she thought back to how he would loop his arms around her when males entered the room they were in. Or wrap his arm around her waist as they walked down a street and men would pass them by. There were a few times that he didn't even realize he was growling at Fred and George when they had hugged her on her special occasions.

Shaking her head, she turned her attention back to the Remus in front of her. "It's all right though, I want you to remember that. You have nothing to fear about Brighton. He's just another werewolf in need of the same thing you are." Standing up, she rounded her desk and sat down in the chair beside him. Reaching out, she placed her hand on top of his which was trying to still his jumping knee. "Remember Remus, you are one of my top concerns. I'm always going to be here for you. I'll always be around when you need me. I'm not going anywhere and nobody else is going to take my attention away from you." She reached out, brushing his fringe from away from his eyes, "All right?"

He nodded, his jaw clenched tight as he turned to her. His eyes were a little glossy and she realized that he likely was quite scared that he might lose her. "He was right, you know," he said, his voice shaking.

"About what?" she wondered, her eyes questioning.

"You're the only one who really looks at our kind and doesn't see a monster. You're the only one who really thinks you can make a difference. And you don't see us as an experiment, but as people who deserve a real life." He shook his head, letting out a quivering sigh. "You don't have any idea of what that means to people like me. You don't know what it's like to live with the idea that you'll never be accepted, only to have your wildest dreams come true." He swallowed, biting his lip for a moment and blinking his eyes furiously. "You give people hope, Hermione. You instill hope."

Hermione's breath caught, remembering how her husband had said something so very similar. Her eyes filled and her stomach clenched. She had to be careful, had to remember that this boy in front of her was not _her_ Remus. One day he might look exactly like her husband, he may even act just like him, sound like him, and be exactly like him. But he would never be _her_ Remus, she had given up that right. He would live a life void of Hermione _Lupin_. He would find love in another, raise a family, and enjoy a world free of what she had witnessed. And she wanted that for him, she truly did. She just never expected that perhaps she would want this Remus to want her like her Remus had. It was foolish and wrong. She couldn't put that sort of weight on him. He was just seventeen years old, with a whole world ahead of him. She would get in the way.

She promised herself then, that when her duty was done, when she had defeated Voldemort and changed the world for the better, she would let Remus go. She would walk away from him and all the Marauders. She would let them live their lives as they should and she would go off somewhere else, far away from what she knew. She would check in on them, of course. Perhaps learn of how they were doing through Dumbledore. But she would not interfere in the natural course of things. It wasn't her place. She had already changed so much, she couldn't design their lives for them. She would have her hands full for years to come anyway. What with Jacques in a few years and her werewolf clans to teach and direct in future. Yes, she would have a full life. Even if it didn't have those she loved in it. She was giving them something far better than just her. She was giving them freedom and security. There was no price for that.

"You think too much of me, Remus," she told him, her knuckles unconsciously running down his cheek in an affectionate way. "I'm just a person too. I'm not anything special."

He sighed, shaking his head. "No, you are. You just don't know you are," he told her, turning to smile at her lightly.

"Come on," she told him, rising from her seat. "I'm going to introduce you to Brighton, and this time you're not going to scare him, all right?" she told him, looking up at him expectantly.

"I didn't scare him," he replied, smirking devilishly.

"You came close to it. Poor guy isn't used to being so vulnerable. Surrounded by people who just learned he was a werewolf and only seconds after he blurted out such a heartfelt spiel." She shook her head. "I really think you two will get along. Will you please give him a chance?" she asked, her brows raising with her plea.

Remus sighed, but nodded all the same. "Fine. But I can't promise that the werewolf in me is going to be at all accepting," he warned.

She nodded, "I know." Walking to the door, she glanced back at him, "You're feeling all right now though?"

"Yeah," he told her, bowing his head momentarily. "Was it really obvious? I didn't mean to react harshly." He shifted on his feet, looking worried.

"I'm sure I was the only one who noticed," she reassured, reaching out and patting his arm. "Besides Brighton and well, Sirius. James was paying all of his attention to Lily though, so I'm sure he didn't see a thing. And Peter was... well to be honest I don't know what that boy is doing half the time," she said, shaking her head and rolling her eyes upward.

Chuckling, Remus opened the door and waited for her to walk through it. She looked back at him as he followed her out and then walked down the stairs. She could see Brighton and Sirius arm wrestling at one of the desk. "Sirius, what _are_ you doing?" she asked, sounding mildly exasperated.

"Just checking to see if he's as strong as Remus," he replied, sounding very short of breath.

Hermione looked at Brighton, to see him grinning and looking as though he hadn't a care in the world. He was holding Sirius' hand in the center, not even making the move to drop him. He was purposely letting Sirius hold him up, watching in amusement as the boy broke out in a sweat but wouldn't give in. Shaking her head, she walked over to them, her brow lifting. "Sirius, did you honestly think you had any chance at winning?" she asked.

"Way to kill a man's ego, 'Mione," he growled, still exerting himself in trying to force the werewolf's hand down.

"Well really, what did you want me to do?" she replied, frowning. "While you are a strong human boy, there is no contest when you put yourself up against werewolves. I've tested their strength, he's at least three times stronger than you could ever think to be."

"Just keep stepping on my ego, it's really helping," Sirius told her through grit teeth. "No respect, no respect at all," he muttered, sounding amused.

"Brighton, please end it before he passes out," Hermione asked, looking over at the smiling boy. He gave her a nod and then with little effort at all, moved his arm and pinned Sirius' hand to the desk top.

Panting, Sirius wiped his face clean with his shirt, showing off his bare stomach for all to see. "I had him!" he announced, letting his shirt fall and nodding his head as everyone laughed.

Hermione patted his shoulder in consolation and then turned around to the others. "You should all head off to lunch now," she reminded, motioning to the time. "I have to bring Brighton up to see Albus." She turned back to Remus, "Potion now or later?" she queried.

"Later," he told her, moving to his desk to pick up his books. "We'll meet you here after class."

"See ya later, Professor G," James called out, sidling up next to Lily and smiling adoringly at her.

Peter followed him out, waving goodbye to Hermione.

Sirius grabbed his books and clapped Brighton on the back. "Rematch!" he told him before turning to wink at Hermione. "Farewell 'Mione," he said, giving a dramatic bow and walking out the door backwards. Shaking her head at him, she chuckled softly.

Remus walked from his desk slowly, his books in hand. He glanced at Hermione once and then turned to Brighton. "Sorry about earlier, I'm not the nicest bloke this time of the month."

"No, I get it. I'm not usually such a sap," Brighton replied, shrugging.

Remus chuckled, nodding. "Well, uh, I guess I'll see ya later." He turned to walk away, but then stopped. "You said you liked Buddha earlier," he mentioned, shifting his weight to the other foot. "I've read up on him. I actually have a book of the most influential quotes in history. If you want to borrow it sometime," he offered, glancing at Hermione quickly. She smiled at him encouragingly, holding her breath in hopes that this Remus and Brighton would get along as well as her Remus and Brighton had.

"Yeah, that'd be great," Brighton responded, grinning.

Remus nodded, "Okay, I'll drop it off tomorrow then." He backed up, turned to Hermione and smiled. Giving her a farewell nod, he waved at Brighton and then left the classroom.

"He seems nice," Brighton told her. "They all do."

"They are," Hermione assured, motioning for him to follow her. "We'll try Albus' office first. If he isn't there, then we'll drop by the Great Hall." He nodded, standing up and grabbing his book bag to follow her out. Brighton was silent as they walked, his eyes roaming the school around him. Hermione fell into her own thoughts as they made their way to the Headmaster's office.

Things were slowly turning out for her. She still had her worries about just how much good she could do for what she considered the past, but she was starting to feel as though she was making a difference. Brighton was already taking an interest in the wisdom of the greatest minds, Remus and the other Marauders were settling into the idea of him becoming controlled quite well, and Hermione found she was becoming a very good professor. The coming night would be her first try at teaching two werewolves in a time that wasn't her own. She had high hopes that it would turn out well and was almost certain that she could make a difference here with her program just like she had in her own time. Things would get harder as the days wore on, the world would darken, and Voldemort would rear his ugly head, taking many people down in the process. But Hermione would meet him head on, she wouldn't let him destroy those that she cared for, not again. Whatever it cost, whatever the price of a good future for those that truly deserved it, she would pay. Tenfold, if needed. It was her journey, her goal, her life's work. Remus had believed in her and she would not let him down. Not again.

* * *

**A/N** _Sorry for the late update. The site wasn't sending out alerts so I thought it was rather pointless and decided to wait until I was sure everything was caught up. Hope you enjoyed this chapter! I have a new HHr two-shot, already completed with the first part up. It's called, "**He Could Always Read Her**," so you check it out if you like the ship and have the time. I'll update, "**Secret Life**," soon! I'm working on getting a new chapter of, "**Growing**," out and **BITTT**, too. Bear with me:D If you haven't already, you should check out the images on my profile page that go with this story and various others. There're banners and chapter images:D_

_Big hugs and huge thanks to everyone who sent me Happy Birthdays via reviews, PM's, and comments on my MySpace page! -grins happily-_

_Thanks for reading, please review! It's very appreciated._

_Much Love,  
-**Amanda**_


	10. Nine

**Review offering insight to the story**:

"_if i've said it once about this story count on it that i will say it a million times ... this is currently topping my favorite way to waste time and avoid doing my uni assignments by re-reading this story time after time ... i love this story ... pure genius ... i have read every time travel story i can get my hands on because i studied physics for a while and time travel was connected to the only part i understood ... any way if in life you ever feel you aren't making a difference just stop a while and remember how many people like me get through their day by reading and re-reading this story ... it is magnificent and wonderful and as close to perfect as humanly possible if not closer... i eagerly await the next chapter with baited breath and can only dream of how marvelous it shall surely be ... congratulaions on a story well done ... Ciao Darling_" - _**DramaQueen4eva**_ of FanFiction net.

**Thank you to the following reviewers**: _nelygirl, Hotkat144, Jester08, Samdoria, Celtic-Dragon-89, brokenblackangel, Gise Cald, Galleon-to-Galleon, Mrs. R. Lupin, bethygirl94, Black-Rose23, amrawo, Cameron MD, Sassafras123, Andressa, FallFromGrace1191, mushcorn, **Danielle, Lupin's Mistress, DeltaGamma Liv, Li Chan, DramaQueen4eva**_ and_ especially **pstibbons, laugh.live.learn** (Rachel)_ and _**galloping-goose** (Zeus)_

_**The Werewolf Tamer**_

_Nine_

Remus found himself standing just outside the property of the Shrieking Shack, night descending on him and the people around him rapidly. Sirius, James, and Peter were standing off to the side, the two more outgoing Marauders talking amicably while the other laughed and listened to whatever it was they spoke of. Remus had never noticed how often Peter appeared to be looking in from the outside, rather than joining in with the group. Hermione stood on a large boulder, away from the others, her hands clasped behind her back and her boot laden feet braced apart. She was dressed head to toe in black and Remus found himself thinking she looked like a widow in mourning, which she was, but in the past it hadn't been nearly as obvious. Ever since she admitted to them about the murder of her husband, he found himself seeing her more clearly. Her emotions were far more stark, her eyes more void, her body language heavier with remorse. Still though, even with her pain, she had a commanding appearance as she stood high up on the shadowed rock, her open robes caught in a dance with the wind.

Brighton paced frantically in front of her, though her gaze was set firmly on the skies. The boy, who couldn't be much older than Remus, was wringing his hands, his shoulders hunched forward, and his eyes wandering over the ground, as if looking for answers to all of his questions. Remus found himself mildly proud that he didn't look as scared as the other boy. Everything was riding on this night, every hope for his future, every chance at being accepted, his entire world. What if it didn't work? What if the potion he'd ingested earlier had no effect? What if when he turned, Hermione wasn't able to talk to him and he lashed out and attacked her instead? There were so many "What if's?" that he found himself wondering if he was doing the right thing anymore.

"Not much longer now," Hermione called out. Her voice sounded distant though, as if she were deep in thought and could barely be bothered to inform them. She was a very intelligent woman, Remus had found out quickly. Often, he'd find her with a thoughtful expression, and then she'd tell him about the most interesting thing. It was a habit of hers, one he found quite endearing. She'd spout off random facts or tell him all about something she'd read recently that truly caught her attention. Sirius liked to say she was a talking encyclopedia, but Remus found her enchanting. He knew he shouldn't, just like he knew he didn't have a chance at ever becoming more with her. She may very well have fallen for a werewolf, married him even, but there was no way she'd ever take up with him. Not only because he was her student, and younger than her by five years, but because she was simply far too good for him.

He never imagined there were really people like her out there. Those who would fight for a cause, one that had nothing to do with them at all, and never allow anything to pull them away from it. Someone who thought more of others than themselves in nearly every situation, it was so uncommon. And then there was her intelligence, which seemed to outweigh all four Marauders together, he had to admit, unfortunately. She also seemed to know every secret that the four boys possessed, along with each and every crevice of Hogwarts. She could outsmart them without lifting her head to see just what it was they were doing, and make them feel like smitten little boys moments later by smiling at them for their attempt. It was true, though they knew her a short time, the Marauders had taken a real shining to Professor Granger.

Sirius still had his moments, where he'd look at her and get a suspicious expression. He'd often comment that she seemed to know something, or was up to something that was far bigger than they could imagine. Remus found him looking at her often, though it wasn't in a way that Sirius usually looked at women. He didn't appear to see her as someone he could flirt with or enjoy a could snog with in the broom closets late at night. That could be because she was a professor, though Remus was sure it wasn't really the reason. He looked at her like she was a puzzle, one that he simply had to figure out. Still though, he treated her like a friend, a confidant, and a trustworthy adversary in the world of pranking. He would pull the tricks, and she would outwit the prankster. They had an interesting friendship to say the least; one that seemed light hearted and fun. There were moments though, when Remus would see her looking at him, and he saw a recognition there that went far past just weeks. It was nowhere near what he'd call romantic, but it was trusting and reminiscent. Remus wondered sometimes just why she looked like she knew them all so much better than she should.

It seemed a favorite pastime of the two newly found friends was to debate. At first, Remus thought they were simply fighting. They didn't agree on numerous fronts and it eventually began a sparring of words between the two. After a few of their 'spats,' he began to realize that it wasn't so much a fight as a debate. They enjoyed butting heads, found gratification in proving their point to one another and trying to make the other bow to their way of thinking. More often neither really won, as they were far too stubborn to admit defeat. It was fun to watch though and Remus found himself remembering their most recent one thoughtfully.

"_They're slaves!" Hermione exclaimed, shaking her head and throwing Sirius a dubious glare._

_Remus sat back, watching from his position on top of one of the desks, sitting adjacent to James who was half-grinning and evaluating where to move his chess piece as he stared down at the board, paying only a half-mind to the debate happening in the background. Remus glanced briefly at Peter, who was sitting in the chair beside the desk, his head level with the board as he propped it on his arms crossed over the desktop. Hermione and Sirius were standing in the front of the classroom, their DADA teacher glowering with her arms crossed angrily over her chest. Sirius kept swiping his hand through his hair, leaning back slightly on one leg as he was prone to do when trying to appear much more at ease than he was._

"_Any time, James," Remus teased him absently, knowing that his friend took forever to make a move. His eyes looked sideways at Sirius and Hermione as they faced off, finding them a little more interesting than the game in front of him._

"_They **want** to be enslaved," Sirius replied to her in a hard tone. He stared at her a moment, before shaking his head. "They don't know any other way!"_

"_Then shouldn't we teach them? Give them the opportunity to **have** another way. To live without orders and beatings and a mediocre disposition in the world?" she asked him, her voice raising with her disgruntlement at the injustice. "They aren't mindless creatures, Sirius! They speak, they think, they talk, just like us!"_

_He sighed, the sound loud and frustrated. "But this is their way of life now. Yes, they're oppressed! Yes, they're enslaved! And yes, they are considered as replaceable! But that's what they've grown adjusted to. You can't just show them the world and tell them to make of it what they would. They believe that their purpose is to serve others. If you tried to free them, it would have severe backlash on you. They don't want to be free, they want to live with a nice family. They want to serve people who need them. They need to be needed!" he tried._

"_Well why can't it be a job? Why can't we pay them or give them holidays or treat them like we would any human we were employing?" she asked him, her hands lifting to rest on her hips._

"_Because they're not human, 'Mione!" he replied, shaking his head and throwing his arms up. "Look! I understand that you're upset over what you think is them being trapped, but you have to view it from their position. They've been enslaved for so long that there is almost no recollection of them ever being free. They're loyal to the families they serve, so much so that they would willingly kill themselves if they were to wrong them. So by trying to tell them that they're free, you're really insulting them. They would think themselves a failure and most likely destroy themselves over it. They don't want to be free! I don't know how many ways I can describe it!" he growled, running his hand through his hair._

_Remus glanced down at the chess board, finding James' move and half-smiling as he saw his best friend's satisfied grin. Easily, Remus moved his own piece to block his friend's and stifled a laugh as James suddenly became very thoughtful and his brow furrowed as he tried to think of a way to best Remus. Turning his attention back to Sirius and Hermione, he wondered how it would all end. Who would give up first? It usually ended with one of them making a noise of disgruntled forfeit and stating that the whole conversation was "pointless" before they stalked off or moved to talk to the rest of the boys._

"_Ah ha!" James exclaimed and Remus looked back to the board. "Oh... huh... never mind," he mumbled, going back to his deep thinking before he moved. Remus chuckled, wondering where Lily was that afternoon. Not that it would have helped James' chess skills any. He'd probably be too smitten and distracted by Lily to pay any attention to the board. Unfortunately for James, he wasn't much of a chess player. Exploding Snap, he was champion! Quidditch, one of the best! But chess, he was only semi-good. He could beat Peter without problem. Sometimes he managed to outplay Sirius, on the occasion that Padfoot wasn't really paying attention. But whenever he tried his luck with Remus, he usually failed miserably. Still though, he gave it his best every time and vowed to one day win a match._

"_So that's it then? From now on we should just accept the stipulations and boundaries placed on everything? How would you feel if tomorrow they told you you weren't allowed to do anything at all without consent? What if you were told your wand was being confiscated and magic could only be used if you asked, and even then it was limited? What if you weren't allowed any of the small delights given to you so easily? Like enjoying a lazy day with your friends or visiting a shop in Hogsmeade? What if every little thing was monitored so that you never stepped out of line? And if you did you were forced to harm yourself for your mistake? How would you** feel** Sirius? Wouldn't you want that to end? Wouldn't you be glad for a day when everything wasn't so dismal and strict?" She stared at him, her eyes searching and intense. "You love to break rules, Sirius, so how would you feel if you were forced to follow every one of them?" she asked, passionately._

"_There... yes...okay," James murmured near Remus, having finally decided his move. _

_Sirius stared at her a long moment, his head tipped to the side. He looked... shocked. Remus wondered if this would be the one time that Hermione would finally stump him. He grinned, cocky and stubborn. "You know me, Mione, I'd find a way around the rules, no matter how strict."_

_Hermione sighed, rolling her eyes and throwing her arms up in the air in exasperation._

_Remus turned back to the board, amused and shaking his head. Exhaling lightly, he reached out and moved his piece with hardly any thought to it. "Checkmate, James," he said, smiling._

"_Drat!" James said, frowning. "Let's go again, Mooney! I'll win one yet!"_

_Hermione and Sirius came over to watch the show and Remus wasn't surprised to hear her make the odd noise when James tried to move a piece that would likely prove trouble later. Remus thought that if James ever did win, it'd likely be because of Hermione's disproving or approving sounds pointing him in the right direction. Shaking his head, he settled in for a sure-to-be-enjoyable game._

James and Hermione's friendship was another story altogether, they sometimes acted like they had grown up together. Lily had commented once that Hermione seemed to treat James like a little brother. It wasn't until that moment that Remus noticed it was true. She chastised James over things and every once in awhile got an expression like she was going to tell on him, in some childish manner. She acted rather hen-like with him, taking on a motherly tone and telling him not to do things so he wouldn't get hurt. The one time she attended a Quidditch practice, she sat with her hands clasped tightly and an expression of abject horror as the Quaffle continued to come flying at him to catch and throw. She also seemed to hate flying, or at least feared it. So whenever James did an obviously tricky move, she'd gasp and squirm. At one point, he had a Quaffle scrape his cheek, and she went completely nuts on him, shouting about how he really had to be more careful and if his mother could see him, she'd likely be incredibly worried. She paced and muttered, wringing her hands, and shaking her head at him, while he continued to half-smile at her and toss his snitch up in the air to catch a moment later.

"_James, do be careful up there, if you fall, you're sure to break your neck!" Hermione called out to him as he tried to stand high on the banister of her stairs to the classroom. He'd been trying all afternoon to run down it without tripping sans victory yet. Currently he was balanced on one foot at the very top, tossing his Snitch up into the air and trying to catch it without teetering over._

"_I'm sure you'll catch me if I fall," he replied, shrugging, his eyes centered solely on the gold that flew up in the air and then fell, his hand darting out to grab it._

"_Perhaps this one time I won't, that'll teach you, won't it?" she replied primly, lifting her chin a notch and staring at him out of the corner of her eye, her hands on her hips. Remus watched from his place at one of the desks, his homework sitting in front of him, half done. These were the moments where they all forgot Hermione was their Professor and considered her simply their friend._

_James laughed, amusement and disbelief strong in the merry sound. "You'd catch me!" he said in a sing-song voice._

"_Nope!" she said, sounding defiant. "I'd let you fall, then I'd take you to Poppy, and then I'd spend my **whole** morning reminding you why it's not safe to do what you're doing right this minute!" she told him, shaking her head and pursing her lips._

_James hopped and landed on the other foot while Remus smiled lightly at the indrawn breath of fear that Hermione had just taken. Remus rather wished Sirius was around, if only because he would have enjoyed seeing Hermione so worried and chastising toward James. He wondered where Peter was off to, as he couldn't be with Sirius. Padfoot was currently snogging Melinda Ozark in the broom closet a floor up, at least that's what he was planning to do and he usually got his way when it involved a girl._

_James glanced down at Hermione, smirking with smug satisfaction. "See! You'll catch me," he said assuredly._

_Hermione made a disgruntled noise and began muttering under her breath about pesky boys and their tendency to do stupid and moronic things that would result in bodily harm or imminent death. "What would your mother say if she knew you were doing that?" she called out, frowning. "I bet she'd be right upset with you," she told him, sounding like a pesky sister who would tell on him if he didn't do what she wanted._

_James lifted his brow before shrugging his shoulders. "What are you going to do then? Write home to my mum? The owl won't reach her before I slip," he told her, tauntingly._

_She huffed, rolling her eyes. "Honestly James!"_

"_Honestly Hermione," he replied cheekily, "Just admit you'd catch me if I fell."_

"_No," she replied defiantly, clearing her face and trying to look unperturbed._

_He chuckled, "Fine. But it'll be your problem when they find me sprawled across your floor. And they'll ask you, 'Why Professor Granger? Why in all that's good in the world didn't you save poor, innocent James from sure death? Certainly you thought to use your wand, or even your arms? Have you no heart?'" he said in a high-pitched, dramatic voice._

_She snorted, shaking her head at him emphatically. "Innocent, James? Please!"_

"_Well..." he said, grinning as he shrugged agreeably. He couldn't be considered innocent, no. He was a Marauder after all, so how innocent could he really be? He tossed the Snitch back up in the air and glanced quickly at the door as Sirius came striding through, a wide grin on his face. His attention was taken for a moment too long however, as he turned back and reached for the Snitch far too abruptly. His footing came out from under him and he slipped sideways on the banister, tripping to fall off and quickly toward the hard, cement ground. _

_It happened so fast Remus only had time to suck in a shocked breath and lift his brows in surprise. Sirius stopped mid-step and his arm swung out as if he thought to catch James, though he was too far away to do anything but watch. Hermione on the other hand had her wand out before anybody could blink and said a quick spell to slow his fall and return him to his feet. It seemed James was so shocked by his slip that he hadn't even thought to shout. Standing steadily on his feet, he looked around in mild surprise before turning to Hermione with a 'told-you-so' smirk, which was quickly hidden as she came full force in hysteria. She poked his chest and waved her hand around as she began babbling about 'idiots who never listen,' 'dangerous acts that will one day cost his life,' and 'the stupidity of every boy she'd ever known'. _

_James took it all in stride, tossing his Snitch up in the air and catching it while he grinned good-naturedly at Hermione. Sirius, seeing that everything was back to normal, let out a grateful sigh and then sat down at the desk beside Remus, smirking at him in a manner that said he was about to tell him a great tale that involved a pretty girl and a fantastic snog. Remus just sat back, calmed by the fact that Hermione would surely be there to catch them before any of them ever fell. She'd save them no matter what the situation, of that he was sure._

Remus found it interesting how quickly James had come to trust the woman he said appeared out of thin air. James never questioned her being there, which was odd for him. He should have been more curious, more suspicious of her, like Sirius was, but almost from the beginning, he seemed to find peace with her presence. Remus understood it in some way, because he too felt it, but James didn't seem to have a reason. Remus contributed his own peace to that of being tamed by her and given the opportunity to be free. But James hadn't really been given anything, or at least that was what Remus thought. He wondered now, however, if Hermione hadn't just given him a sister. James was an only child, though he treated the other three Marauders like his brothers. Now though, he looked at Hermione as if she was the older sister he never had growing up. Remus noticed that when he wanted a girls opinion, he went to her. When he wanted advice, he went to her. When he was upset about his father's recent death and his mother's failing health , he would seek her out for compassion. It wasn't that he thought any less of Sirius or Remus, because he still talked to them about most things, too. But, there was a small bond between him and Hermione, one where they seemed to rely on each other to be a familial connection.

Peter, on the other hand, was likely the most disconnected from Hermione. He came along with the other Marauders whenever they went to visit her in her classroom, where she was usually to be found. He would squeak out replies to her questions and every once in awhile add a few thoughts of his own, but he never quite allowed himself to really get to know Hermione. Remus thought it might be just how intense she was that scared Peter. She had a natural and almost wild beauty to her and a fierce personality that commanded loyalty and strength. To hold a conversation with her, it was expected that the participant be intelligent themselves and able to coherently understand what she was talking about or thinking. Subjects she discussed passionately almost always had connections to freedom. The upcoming war with Voldemort, rights for werewolves and house elves, and simply anyone else that she felt shouldn't be bound by 'silly laws that were obviously made by bigoted arseholes,' in her own words. Peter wasn't one for confrontation, or studying really, so he simply wasn't someone able to hold their own with Hermione. Sirius, James, Lily and Remus, however, seemed to be four of her favorite people.

"_You've finished your homework, haven't you Peter?" Hermione asked, her gaze glancing at him. Her tone was only mildly curious, as if it suddenly dawned on her that she should ask him, too. She'd already sat down with James, Remus, and Sirius and discussed their classes with them and what they were working on. Remus enjoyed these days, when she would take on the position of professor and tell them a little more on the subject they were looking over. Her tone became more fascinated and knowing while she told them all about a moment in history so fluently it was as if she had been there. Or elaborated on a subject so much that he would've thought she was the natural professor of it. He knew it was because she read books on nearly everything and so she had a great knowledge for everything being taught, even her hated Divination. While Sirius liked to bug her about being far too much of a bookworm, Remus knew he was just as awed by her intelligence some days as the rest of them._

"_Yes," Peter mumbled, nodding quickly before he turned his attention back to the Quidditch magazine he was holding._

_Hermione jerked her head to acknowledge that she'd heard him but then pursed her lips. "Good, because you know Professor Socors said that you haven't been doing so well in his class lately." She shook her head, clasping her hands together. "Arithmancy takes a great deal of time and effort, Peter, are you sure you don't need a little help? You must be quite busy lately, with the amount of classes you're taking," she tried to say gently._

_He sighed, frowning, "It was one or two assignments, that's all," he murmured, looking agitated and trying to squirm to hide behind his magazine._

"_Yes, but it's only been a couple weeks since term started," she reminded him, looking a little annoyed herself. "Socors won't be going to Dumbledore just yet, but a meeting with him is no doubt on the horizon." She shook her head, her brow furrowing._

_  
"Oh, but I won't get into any trouble right?" he asked, suddenly becoming very worried. "It's only an assignment or two, Professor Granger, couldn't you talk to him for me? Please?" he pleaded, his eyes becoming even more watery than usual. Remus found it rather odd that Peter still continued to call her Professor at every turn, instead of using the name that the other three Marauders used. He also almost never asked for help from Hermione. He looked pitiful though, practically begging. _

"_I remember those assignments," Sirius interrupted, apparently not waiting for Hermione to cave and agree to talk to Socors for him. He frowned at Peter, "We were all working on them in the library, we asked if you needed our input, you said you were practically done already." He shook his head, "What's the problem? I thought you were doing well in Arithmancy," he sounded almost accusing, like he was annoyed that they had to clean up his mess. Remus wondered why, seeing as he usually just did what had to be done when it concerned a fellow Marauder and never asked questions._

_Peter too looked surprised by his intervention and scowled at Hermione, but it was gone so quickly Remus wasn't even sure it had really happened. "I didn't want to bother you. You guys were all doing so well and I was stuck in the beginning. I thought I could just hand it in later and it would be fine. But then he handed out another assignment so quickly that I got bogged down." He sighed, his shoulders slumping and his face twisting with a lack of self confidence Remus was used to seeing on his friends face._

_Hermione was staring at him, her eyes narrowed and a suspicious look on her face. Sirius and James couldn't see it, but Remus had a clear view, and he wondered why it was that she always seemed to direct that exact face at Peter, but never the others. Her face cleared after a moment and she let out a quiet sigh. "You shouldn't feel that way, Peter." She stepped forward and Remus wasn't surprised when Wormtail shrunk a little in his seat, he was always rather uncomfortable around Hermione. "They're your friends. If you can't rely on anyone else, you should **always** be able to rely on your best friends." She stared at him, hard. "If they were ever in trouble, you would do all you could to help them, wouldn't you Peter?" she asked, and Remus wondered why her words seemed to have a sharp edge to them._

"_O-of c-course, Professor," he stuttered out, his eyes darting over to the other Marauders and grinning with idolization before he looked back at Hermione._

_Hermione didn't seem to believe his words entirely, but she smiled all the same. "Good. Then you'll remember to accept their help when you're having troubles in your classes, won't you?" she asked him, pointedly. He nodded wordlessly, his head jerking quickly. She smiled back and said, "Well, why don't you get your books then? If you hand in the assignments by tomorrow, I'll make sure Socors doesn't take it to Dumbledore. From now on though, Peter, I don't want to hear from the other Professors that you haven't been completing your work. You know there are people willing to help you along." Her shoulders were rather tight with her next words, but her voice was gentle and coaxing, "If you ever have need for me, I'm here to help."_

_Peter stared at her for a moment, his eyes rather questioning. But he nodded, "Yes, thank you."_

_Hermione smiled wanly and then turned to the others, "James, stop playing with your hair, will you? Lily won't be here today and you have nobody here to impress." She sighed, sounding amused. "I could always get you a mirror if you're really so self-centered."_

"_I'm the least self-centered boy in this room," he replied, grinning._

_She snorted, rolling her eyes. "Oh, and here I thought that was Sirius," she replied sarcastically._

It wasn't just the Marauders that held her in high regard though, Remus noticed that most others in the school had a respect for their professor, finding her intriguing and refreshing from most others. She was younger and more understanding of the little things. She didn't allow talking while she was speaking, or note passing, but she could enjoy the rare joke from Sirius or James, and allowed them to speak their mind, if only to gauge how they all looked at things. She loved to hear their opinions on various spells and creatures, wanting to learn just how the minds of their age seemed to work. Outside of classes, she was never lax on the rules, but she did allow for small indiscretions. She let them keep their Map and Invisibility cloak when she found them on their way to the Kitchens again, and he'd heard about how she allowed a couple third year boys off with a warning when she found them out of bed past hours, searching for where they had hidden a large stash of sweets so they wouldn't get confiscated by Filch. She handed out detentions where needed though and was never seen as a pushover in or outside of the DADA classroom.

She also didn't appear to realize her own beauty, because she hadn't caught on to the way most of the seventh and sixth year boys all blushed in her presence or, on rare occasions, tried their hands at flirting. It was a fact that she had yet to realize Gilderoy Lockhart, a sixth year boy who was widely seen as devilishly handsome with his wavy blonde hair and overly charming grin, had quite the infatuation with her. He went out of his way to stop by her classroom and beam his extremely white grin at her whenever possible. It was common knowledge that most of the girls harbored a crush for the so-called handsome sixth year, and yet Hermione looked at him as if he were something she'd recently scraped off the bottom of her boot. Remus had to smother his laugh whenever he saw her wrinkle her nose at the boy in distaste and roll her eyes whenever he tried to be charming with her. She treated him like a little boy asking for another cookie, always sighing in exasperation and never letting him have the cookie. Remus loved every minute of it.

"Stop your pacing, Brighton, everything will be fine," Hermione called out, suddenly hopping down from the boulder. Her boots made a clomping noise, but she landed with perfect grace and reached out to pat Brighton's shoulder. Remus felt his stomach twist and a gnawing jealousy woke up inside his chest, wanting to claw its way out and tear up Brighton. He blamed it on the wolf, but he couldn't deny his own natural infatuation with the woman. It wasn't all that surprising when Brighton simply nodded and stilled his feet from their nervous movements.

Hermione's eyes thinned and she turned to the three Marauders, "Change, please," she told them, politely but not without a small demand in her words.

Wordlessly, James and Sirius followed orders and used their animagi abilities to become a brilliant stag and a Grim-like black dog. Peter shifted on his feet a little before following suit and becoming a small, drab little grey rat. He looked almost obsolete standing between two large animals that held power and strength in their every movement

Remus pulled his eyes away from his friends when he realized Hermione was coming over to him. He felt a tingle on his skin and the chill of the air, knowing that he was about to go through the painful transformation soon. She stopped in front of him and his heartbeat sped up, expecting to see some sense of fear in her chocolate eyes. His expression became slightly puzzled when he found her looking at him without any fear, despite knowing what he was going to become. Some days it was still rather hard to believe that she could look at him and see 'just Remus,' rather than the monster inside. Women like her -intelligent, beautiful, strong- they shouldn't want anything to do with him. They should turn their backs, sniff in disgust, and run for the hills. But here she stood, her hands clasped loosely on her hips. "Remus?" she asked, her voice soft, intoxicating in its genuine sincerity.

He looked into her eyes, his gaze focusing after his lackluster thoughts left him. "Yeah?" he asked, clearing his throat and throwing a rather worried look up to the moon. She shouldn't stand so close. What if he hurt her? What if the potion didn't work right away and the wolf wanted a taste of her?

She smiled at him and he felt his breath catch in his throat. He hoped he didn't looked as smitten as he felt sometimes, otherwise she must think him a serious dope. "No matter what happens, I'm going to be right here with you. D'you understand?" she asked him, reaching out and wrapping her soft fingers around his wrist, her thumb brushing the pressure point. "Whatever you feel, whatever fears you have, I want you to remember that I have all the experience I could possibly need in this area. I'm not in danger, and because I've already met your wolf side, it's going to recognize me. You have nothing to fear."

He swallowed thickly, nodding jerkily. "Okay," he mumbled.

She squeezed his wrist and then backed up, and for a moment he saw that same recognition shine in her gaze. The connected look her eyes gave whenever she looked at Sirius in deep thought. But there was something else there, too. He wasn't sure what it was, he just knew that her eyes had the ability to calm him and reassure him by doing nothing but settling on him. People who knew about werewolves extensively, they usually reacted badly to the amber glow of his eyes, but she met his gaze as if it were natural. She never flinched, never frowned or sniffed in disdain of the amber reminder of the monster inside that sat in waiting.

Remus could suddenly hear the rush of his heartbeat in his head. _Thump, thump_. It was loud, penetrating in how thick and hard it sounded. It echoed in his ears, seemed to jump from his chest, thrummed through his limbs. _Thump, thump_. He felt his skin begin to tingle once more and his breathing started to pick up rapidly. His lungs were expanding with each huge gust of air he inhaled. His mouth hung open as he greedily tried to suck in air as if he were suffocating. _Thump, thump_. His back arched, eyes closing tightly as he felt his bones moving and adjusting. His skin felt as though it were ripping away from him, tearing and burning. _Thump, thump_. He gave an unnatural growl as his senses picked up dramatically. He could smell everything, hear every little sound, feel the wind against him as if it were kissing the entirety of his body. _Thump, thump_. His clothes tore, fur pushed itself out from beneath his stretching and pained skin. His legs became longer, corded with thick muscle, and his arms felt heavy and rushed with a strength he didn't always show, but continuously felt as a human. His hands and feet expanded to become clawed and padded for running through brush and withstanding the harsh features of the ground. _Thump, THUMP_. With a loud, eerie howl up to the moon, he finished his transformation. He was the wolf.

It was disconcerting at first, to feel the strength and power behind his movements, to hear the heavy panting of his breath, to know he was in his werewolf form, and yet he could still think objectively. Part of him was very much the werewolf, but he still had enough human sense not to simply run off and play in the woods or wrestle with one of his friends. Sniffing the air, he could recognize the scent of another werewolf and immediately felt a sense of territorial anger. He turned to Brighton, seeing that he was fully changed and taut with confusion and wary suspicion. Hermione stood between them while his friends were off to the side, simply watching avidly. The gentle scent of Hermione reached him and he felt a primal infatuation zing through him, telling him that the wolf very much liked her. She stared directly at him and once more he felt a strong gratitude to see that she didn't cringe, back away, or even show the smallest notice of fear. Instead, she walked directly toward him, her steps sharp and precise, her robes billowing out from her legs and making her appear dramatically confident.

She lifted her fisted hand and placed it upon her heart before pulling it down across her torso in a slicing manner. '_Protector_,' whispered through his mind and he felt his muscles relax a little more. The werewolf in him wanted to touch her, wanted to smell her hair and play in the brush with her. He stepped closer and his head moved forward without his even knowing. It pressed against her flat belly, nuzzling her for a moment, before rising slowly and sniffing her adoringly. Hermione chuckled and he felt her hand behind his ear, scratching him in a way that had him panting a little harder. His back foot began thumping against the ground in happiness and the merry tune of her laughter made a sense of contentment wash over him. The human half of him told him he was being abnormally touchy and that he should pull back, but his werewolf side desperately needed to be close to her.

His nose reached her neck and nudged it before burying in her hair, where he inhaled thickly. His eyes fluttered and his hands raised a little as if to pick her up. Before his human self could tell the wolf 'no,' it had placed its clawed hands on her waist and lifted her high off the ground. She gave a small squeak of surprise but didn't lash out or scream, which he was grateful for. His hind legs stretched and his back arched as he held her up, the moon framing her in an unnatural glow from behind. Her lush, wavy hair fell down long and soft against her, slipping over his forearms and sending a shiver down his spine. She simply stared at him with a half-smile, but he tipped his head to the side at seeing her eyes shining with tears. They weren't scared, but sad. He could see the longing and depressed agony shimmering in her gaze now and was reminded of her husband. The wolf in him lashed out against the idea that she could love anyone else, that she could've been with anyone else, especially a werewolf and immediately growled at the thought.

Hermione reached out, her hand touching his face and trailing down it gently. She made a noise from the back of her throat and clicked her tongue in a manner that somehow told him to, 'settle down'. He had a feeling there was more to it, but the gist of it was that he was to try and become calm for her. The wolf listened without hesitation and Remus was surprised at its devotion to her. He heard a howl in the background and turned swiftly to see Brighton rolling around on the ground and pawing at the sky boredly. His mouth immediately snarled at the other wolf, and he had the territorial need to simply take Hermione away and never let her near Brighton again.

"Put me down, Remus," Hermione called out to him, her voice level but demanding.

The wolf didn't want to and made a whining noise that told her he wasn't interested in letting her go. He told his arms to put her down and they dropped a little but then the wolf reared its ugly head and told him not to interfere, that she was _his_ and he wanted to keep holding her. He felt as though he were fighting against his nature and wasn't sure what to do. Hermione sighed and then made a motion with her arms, a swift and direct movement with her fist and open palm. His ears fell back as if chastised and the wolf listened this time, letting him put her down on the ground before moving to stand beside her as she turned to Brighton. The hair on his body seemed to bristle as they walked toward the other werewolf and he felt the strong desire to attack, maim, and establish himself as the alpha male.

"Brighton," Hermione called out, her voice soft but commanding.

The other werewolf turned and rolled over to leap to his feet. He turned swiftly to Hermione and looked perplexed for a moment. His head turned to one side and gazed down at her in confusion before his front leg lifted and pawed at the air, almost as if he were waving to her. She chuckled lightly and then reached out, pointing to the moon and throwing her head back to howl loudly. Remus and Brighton joined her in the loud homage, the noise piercing the air and melodically singing from the three. When they were finished, Remus didn't feel so annoyed with Brighton, but rather felt like he might be able to accept his being there, if only because Hermione did. While the human Remus had tried to act friendly to him, the wolf inside didn't see it that way. It wasn't until Hermione had officially reminded them that their was a goal between them that they should act more civilized.

She turned to them, a content smile on her face. "Now, I'm going to teach you a few of the basic commands that I want you to stow away. These will essentially mean that this person does not mean to harm you," she told them both, staring directly into their eyes. "Nod if you understand or shake your head if you're having trouble," she informed them, looking back and forth and waiting for their reply. Both of them nodded and she continued on. "Okay," she said, backing up a few paces and holding her arms up to keep them from following her as they both rose to move with her. She smiled, "If a person makes this motion," she said, repeating her early action of trailing her fist from her heart to her opposite hip, "It means that person is here to protect you. Now, very few people will know this. In fact, if you see it it means that they are family or held in the highest regard. Also, the person could be a mentor or sent by someone very close to keep you safe. If they show the smallest bit of hesitation or if they mess it up though, they could be a fake. Because anyone you teach this to will only use it with you. It's a sacred motion, one meant only for those who truly care. I will _not_ allow it to be taught to anyone I deem unworthy," she told them, her mouth set darkly.

Remus wondered how few people knew the signs she was teaching and felt rather annoyed that he had so few people to teach them to. In fact, the only ones he'd really want to know something that was dubbed sacred were standing across from him now, so there was really no one else. For a moment, he was struck with how lonely his existence was. Hermione smiled at him then however, and he was reminded that she was trying to give him a world where he wouldn't have to be lonely. Where others would learn how to speak to him and other werewolves so that he couldn't be ostracized any longer. He sat up a little straighter and put his attention back on her words, wanting to live up to her expectations.

"This movement," Hermione said, threading her fingers together, palms apart as if she were trying to separate her hands by force, "means 'friend'. It essentially lets you know that the person in front of you means you no harm, and is someone you know. Because they're not making the 'protector' motion, you know that they are not somebody you've known your whole life, or consider to be like family. This doesn't make them any less trustworthy, it just lets you see the difference. A protector will know you better, be able to communicate with you easier. So this will also let you know why the person may not be able to understand your movements as well as some might, or may even be a little bit afraid," she explained slowly.

Remus thought of how few friends he knew that knew of his furry little problem and could only think of using the friend motion for Lily. Most others he knew were just acquaintances, and he wasn't really upset about that. He rather liked having just the Marauders at times. They were the most trustworthy of friends and he would lay his life on the line for them if it came down to it.

"An important one is the one made my strangers who simply run across you," Hermione told them, her tone serious. "I need you to remember this one very specifically," she told them, walking forward. "If someone is in the woods or you somehow stumble upon an innocent, they will make this motion, and you have to take it that they are not going to harm you." She stared at them before crossing her arms over each other and patting her shoulders quickly. "They might fall, they might scream, they may even simply try and run away, which are all reason to believe that they don't want to hurt you. Your best bet is to simply avoid them. Do not chase them down, do not go looking to make sure they make the movements. And most of all, because they are a stranger, if they look **too**comfortable in your presence, it could be a trap," she warned, frowning. "These movements can be used against you, so I want you to remember to pay close attention to what they're doing and how they're acting. Remember that someone who knows you or cares about you will use the other two but a stranger will only know this one. Therefore, they have the natural inclination to be scared."

She bit her lip a moment, "Something else important to remember is this," she said after a moments thought, opening her palm and placing her fist in it before quickly throwing her fist off of it. "It means to behave. It's a small chastisement. It won't be used if you're doing anything terrible, just if you're acting up. This will most often be used by those close to you, those who trust you enough to tell you when you're doing something wrong," she assured, nodding.

Remus remembered how his ears fell back and felt the wolf inside him become rather grumpy over being told he was bad. He felt like a puppy that had recently been shouted at and let out a snort of disdain. Hermione glanced at him, looking amused. Were he a human, he might have blushed or looked away, but the wolf inside him straightened up and tried to look as if he hadn't a care in the world. His body was becoming jumpy however and he wanted to go out in play for awhile. Hermione sighed, licking her lips and watching their movements.

Brighton made a whining noise and sat down, waving his head around from the need to go running. Remus felt the same, the wolf inside him kept trying to move his limbs around and jump over to play with Hermione. He had to force it back enough so he could pay close attention to what Hermione was saying. He didn't want to mess any of it up. She had already told him that she would be practicing it with him in future. That every full moon for the first year or so she would test them to see if they remembered the motions and he was glad, because he felt that if he was constantly reminded, he wouldn't forget. The part that scared him was that she would slowly take away the Wolfsbane potion too, to be absolutely sure that the wolf also knew the motions. She was testing both human and wolf and though he was sure that the wolf in him would at least remember that she was important to him, it might not remember it with other people.

Becoming restless, Remus couldn't help but stand up and stretch his body, running a small circle before sitting back down. The wolf always wanted to move, needed to gallivant in the moon light, needed to run through the trees and chase after animals.

"James," Hermione suddenly called and turned her back on them to look at the Marauder who had been sitting idly by a tree while she conferred with the werewolves. James and Sirius were chasing each other around while Wormtail sat on a low branch and watched avidly. The stag stopped and suddenly pranced over to her, looking rather proud and glorified in his animagus form. He stopped beside Hermione and looked over at the werewolves. Brighton was scratching his side with his back leg and making an annoyed noise. He began panting after a moment and Remus barely staved off the need to roll onto his back and roll around in the dirt. He could hear distant noises and knew that various other animals were coming closer. Nothing big or dangerous from what he could tell, but the wolf wanted to go hunting.

Hermione reached out and placed a hand on the back of James' neck, her hand drawing down from between his antlers to rest just above where his back started. Remus felt a growl bubble in his throat but forced the wolf to put aside his jealousy and reminded himself that James was a friend and had no interest in Hermione. The wolf seemed only mildly sated and began scratching at the dirt beneath him, pulling up grass and rocks. Hermione led James over to stand in front of Brighton and then stared at him directly, "Brighton, I want you to sniff James carefully and remember his scent. If you're ever out here without me or if you get separated from Remus and the others, I need your wolf side to remember James so you won't attack him," she told him, motioning with her index finger for Brighton to come closer.

Brighton stared at her and then glanced at James, looking apprehensive. Finally, he bounded to his feet and came forward, looming over the stag with a frightening largeness. He pushed James head so the stag would turn, and though he made an annoyed huffing noise, he turned. Brighton leaned in and took a large whiff of him, sniffing a few times and patting his back with his large, clawed hand, trying to get a feel for him and implant him in his mind. When he was finished, he nodded at Hermione and then nudged James' side with his nose, before backing up.

"Good," Hermione said, smiling lightly. "Thank you James," she told him, reaching out and scratching around his antler. He made a noise and turned to lick her palm before walking back over to the tree and standing beneath where Peter hovered on his branch. "Peter, Sirius, will you please do the same?" she asked him, politely, turning to look at him.

Sirius rolled around on the ground awhile, barking once at her before rolling onto his stomach. He waited for Peter to hop down to sit on his back and then walked over languidly, as if he had all the time in the world. Remus knew he was just trying to annoy Hermione and wasn't surprised when Hermione sighed. "I could always neuter you and leave you back at the school for the rest of the program," Hermione suggested, half-smirking.

Sirius' ears fell back and he hurried up a bit to stand in front of Brighton, who followed the same motions with James by sniffing all around him and feeling his fur. After a moment, he nodded again and the nudged Sirius to let him know he could move. Peter hopped off and scurried over to James as soon as he could, obviously still quite frightened of the unfamiliar werewolf. Instead of walking over to the tree, Sirius walked over to Hermione and sat down, leaning his head against her thigh, waiting to be pet like all the others. Amused, she chortled, but knelt down beside him and scratched the side of his neck affectionately. "How would you all feel about going for a run in the woods then?" she asked them, understandingly. "You must all feel very cooped up." Sirius barked happily and Hermione smiled, rolling her eyes. "I think that's enough for now anyway. Werewolves have a very low tolerance for sitting still and listening." She sighed, standing back up and giving a quick nod. "Next time we'll discuss familiar noises of communication," she assured, waving back to the woods. "Go on ahead, play. I'll meet you back at the Shrieking Shack later," she told them.

Brighton immediately jumped to his feet and rushed the trees, leaping up in the air every once and a while and batting at branches playfully. While Remus had the urge to follow suit, another part didn't like the idea of Hermione walking off into the woods alone. He walked over to her, nudging her side and looking up at her. She wrapped her hand around the far side of his neck, tugging lightly at the fur in a way that was oddly pleasant. "Don't worry about me. I've done the math, I'll be back at the Shrieking Shack after a ten minute hike. I have a book waiting and I'm sure I can fend of anything that comes my way. If I need you, I'll call for you. You'll know it's me," she reassured.

He wasn't completely satisfied and the wolf immediately made a whining noise of disagreement, nudging her again. If she wasn't braced for it, he likely would have knocked her clear over, but she simply swayed a bit. "Hey, I've been working with werewolves for six years, you don't think I can handle something smaller and much less strong?" she asked him, smiling.

The wolf inside bolstered at her words, feeling as if he were the reigning superior over all creatures. He answered her with a huffing snort and a waving of his head.

She seemed to understand this as she chuckled, "You're dying to go for a run, Remus. Let yourself have it. I will see you in the morning, bright and early."

He couldn't hold back the need to play any longer and finally nodded his head. He turned to her, pressing the side of his head against her stomach and nuzzling it in goodbye before he ran off, meeting Sirius half way and tackling him to roll across the ground. They hurried off into the woods, excited and ready to play. Remus let more of the wolf take over and relaxed a little so that he could enjoy the fresh air and playful attitude lingering inside. Hours were spent rolling in leaves and dirt, splashing in creeks and tackling his friends or nudging them around. He felt invigorated having enough human sense to know what he was doing and remember it. He didn't hurt himself once, instead using his time to stretch his limbs and roll down hills with all the enthusiasm of a child. He chased a few animals, simply for the fun of hunting, rather than the dark need to destroy something. He was lighthearted and calm with the effects of freedom.

Hours later, as the moon slipped from the sky, Remus felt his energy draining. The six friends made their way back to the Shrieking Shack, where they climbed inside to find Hermione fast asleep on the floor, a book half open in her hands. Remus knew that he would go through the painful change back in an hour or so and curled up a few feet away from her, Brighton doing the same. Sirius laid down in a ball in front of Hermione, burying his nose under one of his paws. James curled his legs underneath him and rested in front of her, his eyes drooping. Peter took his place beside Sirius, seeming to burrow up against his long fur, finding heat and comfort in it.

The wolf inside seemed to be sated for now, though Remus could still feel him somewhere inside. He stretched, yawing and rolling onto his side, his long limbs laying across the dusty floor. Hermione was fast asleep in front of him, her dark curls falling to frame her soft, pale face. Her lashes looked dark against her complexion and he found his eyes roaming her face, sharp and absorbing each and every crevice of her. He could smell her scent on the air, tinted with the light tinge of soap and a mildly flowery shampoo. The wolf shifted inside, finding her to be intriguing and exciting compared to most humans. His animal instincts wanted to cuddle her, sniff her hair as he fell asleep, even lick at her as if she were a fellow animal. His eyes fluttered with the need to fall asleep, though he knew he'd be awakened by the painful change soon to come. Still, he couldn't hold off the sandman any longer and he drifted away, inhaling deeply to imprint her soft, feminine scent on his senses.

Remus woke to excruciating pain. His heartbeat sped up so much he was sure it would burst. Fur retracted itself, bones moved back into human form, and his skin burned with each. His whole body was throbbing and thrumming, while his skin broke out in a heated sweat. His senses were still on high as he fell like a lump to the floor. He felt tiny and inconsequential compared to how he was before. His screams of anguish, mixed with Brighton's from a few feet away, seemed to be bouncing off the walls still, echoing back to him and banging around in his head loudly. He was stripped of any strength, feeling like a heavy body of limbs that couldn't twitch let alone hold him up. His throat was dry and he felt desperately parched. His gut was twisted and he felt the desire to retch. He was almost shaking, he was so tired.

He felt a calming hand running over his face and hair, cool and relaxing. His eyes were shut tight but he knew who it was. Her scent lingered near him and he'd never felt anyone touch him so gently before in his life. He felt heat against his cheek and realized his head was laying in her lap. Most wouldn't come near him after he'd just finished a transformation. Even his friends waited a little while because he sometimes lashed out, the last little bit of wolf in him didn't take kindly to being touched directly after. But she didn't consider it or simply didn't care. He sighed lightly with content, the top of his head rubbed against her stomach and he felt as though he could fall back asleep already. It usually took hours, but she had pulled him back from the strain as if it were the easiest thing in the world. He wondered if she did it with all werewolves or just him and a growl of jealousy escaped him as he thought of anybody else being so close to her.

"Shh," she murmured, her knuckles running lightly over his cheek. "Rest, Remus, when next you wake up, you'll be back at Hogwarts, with a chocolate bar waiting," she reassured, her voice soft and soothing. He wanted to reply, wanted to thank her, but his mouth wouldn't work. "James, put the other blanket around Brighton, please. We'll move them over soon." Remus found himself smiling against her thigh, certain now that she wouldn't be concentrating on Brighton like she was him.

He told himself that his small obsession with her would have to stop, that he was just leading himself down a path that would end badly, but neither he or the wolf were interested or able to stop his infatuation. Perhaps it was idol worship in some way, but some part of him was sure that even if she hadn't given him the opportunity for freedom, he would have still found her to be intoxicating. Her intelligence and wit, her beauty and strong beliefs, her passion for loyalty. By some stroke of fate, he had found his perfect half. It was only too bad about the age difference. It would be wrong for a student and Professor to have anything besides a professional partnership, wouldn't it? But hadn't they already created something outside of school? Wasn't she already a friend and confidant to at least three of the Marauders? Was that professional? He couldn't explain it really.

She wasn't like others. He felt as though she were sent to watch over them, to keep them safe, and all the same he felt as if part of her wasn't meant to be there. Not exactly. She appeared out of thin air, which wasn't really all that surprising, after all apparating had the same effect. But her destination appeared odd and rather convenient, given she arrived in front of a werewolf and happened to be a werewolf tamer. If he didn't trust her wholeheartedly he would have thought it suspicious, like Sirius still tended to. He got the feeling however that if it came down to her life or his, James', or Sirius', she would pick theirs over her own. For some reason he couldn't understand and wasn't sure he wanted to know, she considered them to be much more important than most. She held them in such high regard that it could be seen plainly in her face. He wasn't sure what they had done to deserve it, or if they even earned it, but he was content knowing that she would always be there to help them. It worried him that he felt as if they would need saving, but there was always a lingering feeling that they did.

A blanket fell around his body and he felt it being tucked in around him. "Usually he tries to walk," Sirius' voice could be heard telling her, rather loud and grating on his nerves.

"You're all seventeen now, you can use hovering charms on both of them. They should relax as much as possible, the energy drained from them is huge. I've studied it, he won't be so irritable and tired if we move him instead of letting him walk," she replied quietly.

"Never much liked having to half carry him anyway," Sirius joked. "He's much heavier than he looks."

"It's all the chocolate he eats," James quipped.

Hermione sighed, "Oh honestly, he's more fit than either of you. A werewolves metabolism works twice as hard. In fact, years from now when the both of you are fat and stooped over, he'll likely still be tall, lithe, and have all his hair," she told them, sounding amused.

"I'll never lose my hair!" Sirius and James exclaimed, sounding shocked and appalled.

Hermione laughed, rich and melodic. The sound sent a pleased shiver down Remus' back, which Hermione read wrong. "Oh," she said, sounding mildly worried, "we should hurry back. We need more blankets, I don't want their fevers causing problems." She shifted a bit beneath him and he momentarily wished they could just stay where they were and he could sleep in her lap.

"Peter, please grab my book for me," she said, politely. She carefully moved out from beneath Remus' head, holding it in her palms and then murmuring a hovering charm. She reached up and placed his arms on his stomach so they weren't left dangling down and then charmed the blanket to wrap around him tightly and not slip. He rather felt like he was in a cocoon and though he was already quite hot from his fever, he knew it was needed. "Sirius, why don't you walk ahead so you can stop the Whomping Willow, you have quicker reflexes," she told him.

"Flattery will get you everywhere," Padfoot said charmingly, before walking ahead out the door.

Remus dozed on and off during the trek back. The sky was still rather dark though the sun was beginning to rise far off. The school was in the distance, his drooping eyes caught sight of its large stature during one of the moments that his friends voice stirred him. Hermione walked next to him, her fingers running through his hair whenever he woke up, putting him back to sleep. "Almost there," she whispered and a small smile pulled at his lips. "One day," she continued, her mouth close to his ear as they walked, "you won't have to hide any longer. And even though the mornings are hard and tiresome, the nights will be just as filled with a content freedom that you'll never have to fear them again." She sighed, sounding wistful. "I've always found a sense of comfort in knowing that every werewolf who's passed my training has walked away with that. You will have that, Remus, I guarantee it. Freedom will be yours."

Remus was both comforted and worried about her words. What would he do when the day came that she moved on? How would he feel when she left to train others, believing that he no longer needed her assistance? How would he cope without her around? It seemed so odd to rely so much on her, but ever since she arrived, he felt the weirdest sense of togetherness with her. As if somehow she was supposed to be with him forever. He'd never believed in soul mates or fate before, but he often got the feeling that they were meant to be with each other. Was it just wishful thinking on his part? Was it just an infatuation that became hopeful? He opened his eyes as best he could and gazed up at her. She looked down, as if feeling his eyes, and smiled. Why was it that whenever she bestowed that sweet smile on him, his heart rose up to his throat? Maybe one day, when he wasn't a student and she wasn't his professor, he would have a chance. Maybe the future would grant him that beautiful possibility. He could hope.

* * *

**A/N** _Hope you enjoyed this! I'm trying to update my other stories as soon as I can. The second half of my recent HHr story, "**He Could Always Read Her**", has been updated if you're interested. It's a rather humorous romance, more romance than comedic._

_Thanks for reading, please review, it's very much appreciated._

_Much Love,  
-**Amanda**_


	11. Ten

**Review offering insight to the story**:

"_Well I did promise, so here is my review for your quite lovely story and plot you have going on, called Werewolf Tamer. Good strong beginning. I love how you picked up on Peter's "outside-looking-in" viewpoint. Although I dislike Peter in many ways, shapes and forms, I wonder if he had been like Sirius, (my God I can't imagine two of them!) and more vocal do you think he would have done the things he did? He seems to me a misguided, underrepresented, over-judged and all around bad guy character. Yes he made some horrible decisions. One's that left him in a life debt to his friend's son, Harry, but I wonder seriously if James and Sirius had included him more would James and Lily still be alive? What about Sirius? Of course, these aren't questions for anyone but J.K. to answer, and if she had made Peter more involved I believe she never would have wrote the series. And since I am in a rambling mood I shall switch to the topic of J.K. I have read some pretty amazing fiction in my life. Some medicore fan fiction, some absoultely "I want to shoot myself this is so bad" fan fiction and then comes the category where you, JK Rowling, Jane Austen, Stephenie Meyer and John Steinbeck all come in. (And yes I did just compare to two of the worlds greatest authors.) Without J.K. Rowling you wouldn't have written any of your current works, but I see something in your writing that is lacking in hers. I see patience in her writing and of course that makes sense since she spends years working on a book, maybe a month on a chapter or more. But it takes a true author to write with patience, write quickly and write well. I know you only by your writing Amanda or atruwriter, but I am inspired to be like you. Your writing is fresh and always full of perfect detail. While I can barely pull off a chapter a week with my "writing muse gone" times you pull off much more. Sometimes three, four, maybe even five chapters a week, plus an occasional one or two shot. It's amazing. If anyone could win a Nobel Prize in multi-tasking, writing well, and being an amazing person at the same time I would give it to you. And finally a person who realizes we can fight for a cause we are not involved in! When a normal human being goes out into the world and proudly proclaims, "I'm going to end illertarcy in the US!" one of the first questions out of people's mouths are "Why?" and "Could you not read as a child?" Do they not realize that there doesn't always need to be a why and a reason. You can fight for something with every fiber of your being without being affected by it. We, as people, need to learn that. ponders Hmm, maybe I should just get everyone to read your fan fictions. I love how this story is progressing. I can imagine the friendship between James and Hermione so clearly. It seems like nothing else and yet it seems so real. sighs Sometimes I wonder... Anyhoo..it was beautiful. I can't imagine how many times you watched the scene from the third movie and reread those books. That must have took an immense amount of time. Thanks for putting a smile on my face with your talent._" - **_annieca_** of FanFiction net.

**Thank you to the following reviewers**: _Samdoria, Dizi 85, Cameron MD, Jester08, N8mist, killing u with umbrellas, nelygirl, Celtic-Dragon-89, Remuz Rulz, Black-Rose23, Hotkat144, Wistful-Dreamer, bethygirl94, amrawo, Jjah-Jjah, **DramaQueen4eva, Karoru-chan, quiet-mg, Lupin's Mistress, Li-chan, clare127** _and _especially **Danielle, mskiti **(Tabi)**, annieca, laugh.live.learn**_ _(Rachel)_ and **_galloping-goose_**_(Zeus)_.

_**The Werewolf Tamer**_

_Chapter Ten_

Hermione stood in the middle of her classroom, a quill in her mouth as she contemplated her lesson plan for the next morning. She wasn't quite sure if she liked it just yet. Her right toes were scratching the back of her left calf through her pants, but the itch simply wasn't being sated. She sighed, grumbling under her breath and pressed her foot a little harder, exhaling lightly with a smile as the itch began to dissipate. It had been a couple weeks since the full moon and everything was feeling a little less heavy lately. Her training with Brighton and Remus had gone remarkably well, which she had been hopeful but worried about. She hadn't expected Remus' inner wolf to take such a liking to her right away, and had to admit it was mildly emotionally taxing. Each of her wolves eventually became quite affectionate, nuzzling her leg or nudging her hand to be pet, but that wasn't until they had made a canine and human connection with her. It took months to establish and oftentimes wasn't as familiar as how Remus acted.

She wanted to believe that it had something to do with how her and Remus had been simply perfect for each other, but had to remind herself that the Remus she knew now was just a seventeen year old boy. He didn't have the experience or wisdom of the Remus she had been married to. He didn't have the emotional connection that her Remus had, given that they had literally gone through war together. This Remus didn't know her best friends or lose people like she did. He was a sweet boy, one who meant a lot to her as a student, a friend, an inspiration, but she wasn't going to let it get past that. Despite the fact that he looked so much like her Remus, that he acted quite like him, that when he smiled, it was very obviously the same man, she would not allow herself to ruin his chances. He could have a real future, one free of everything her Remus had seen. She was adamant on keeping them as friends and professionally as student and teacher.

Hearing the door open, Hermione looked up from her notebook to see Brighton holding a stack of tomes in his arms. She smiled at him, motioning for him to bring them over to her desk. After a very persuasive conversation with Dumbledore, she had convinced him that Brighton would be her perfect teaching assistant. While he was still very quiet and didn't talk much with the students, he was a great help. He knew the Hogwarts library efficiently and Madam Pomfrey seemed to think him a 'darling'. Like the Brighton she knew in her time, he didn't speak much unless he had something insightful to say. On rare occasions, Sirius brought him out of that to horse around and generally be a regular eighteen year old boy. "Did you find the book on Giants I was looking for?" she queried.

He looked up, half-smiled, and gave a quick nod.

"That was the one I was sure wouldn't be here," she told him, grinning. "I thought I'd have to make a trip to Hogsmeade, or maybe even Diagon Alley." She shrugged, walking over to stand next to him so she could see the books. "How is Madam Pince?"

"Good," he told her. A simple, short answer, but it wasn't to be rude. Hermione found that if pressured to speak, Brighton closed up. When put in a place where he simply had to speak, if to keep himself safe or because he was curious, he'd question things. Generally, however, he was a soft spoken, nice boy. She found whenever he had some time to himself, he'd break out the book of quotes that she had given him. He seemed to have a collection of them, of which she had been perusing when she showed him his new quarters. He immediately emptied his small bag of what little he had, and the majority were books consisting of the insight of others. Every once in awhile, he'd quote something wise to bring insight to a situation in class or with the Marauders. Hermione found herself smiling lightly in reminiscence whenever she heard his soft but deep voice treat them to another quote.

"That's nice. I'm going to be putting around the classroom for awhile here, Brighton, so you can go ahead to dinner if you want, or whatever you'd like," she told him, smiling warmly. He was so much younger than she remembered, and yet he held that familiar spark of friendliness that she recognized in her old friend. There were a few wrinkles missing, a couple gray hairs no longer in view, but he was still Brighton at heart, and that was really quite comforting for her.

He nodded, lifting his side bag up off the chair he left it at and gave a small wave before leaving the room.

Hermione sighed, looking back at the stack of books, reading the spines and then setting them on the side. She was having a discussion with her seventh years tomorrow and she wanted to be ready for anything they might ask. Most people considered various creatures to be dark, even if they really weren't. Hermione wanted to set the record straight on the background of them and make sure there weren't going to be any testy students. She didn't want to be responsible for undereducated witches and wizards going out into the world thinking they were ridding it of dangerous creatures when they were really only destroying a harmless being. Gathering the books up into her arms, she decided to look them over a little more in her office. Using her wand, she closed the shutters on the windows and made her way up the stairs.

Her office was furnished like a mini-library. There were books lining every possible wall, along with a couple pictures she had of her and various magical creatures. One was of her when she visited a Giant colony with Hagrid. The half-Giant wasn't in the picture, otherwise she'd have a couple things to answer for. Instead, she was sitting on a man's shoulder, a good friend she'd made, by the name of Orlaph. He was huge, wide and tall, with burly big arms, a thick mop of brown hair on his head, and a toothy grin. His wife Gerdi stood beside them, twisting her very large apron in her hands, accidentally tearing it with her anxiety. She, like her husband, was very large at every angle, but she was really quite sweet and soft spoken. Sandy blonde hair hung down to her hips in plaits and a flowery dress hung to her knees. In the picture, Hermione was smiling out at the camera while her gaze kept falling back to Orlaph who was telling her an amusing story about his little boy who had gotten himself stuck in something after forgetting how large he was. His grasp of English was stilted, but she wouldn't ever consider him stupid. Various other photos of her, like those of the werewolf clans over the years, one of them even taken when they were all in full fledged wolf form, hung around the walls. That one tended to scare people though, and Hermione often found herself frowning at people for being so ignorant.

Hours later, Hermione found herself rubbing at her temples, halfway through one of the tomes Brighton brought her. A candle sat on the edge of her deep brown desk, flickering and surrounded by melted and gnarled wax. Her quill was writing out her notes for her, as her hand began to ache as she read and added things to her parchment. She was hungry, she noticed, and rose from her seat deciding that now was the time to steal down to the Kitchens and get something to munch on. She had missed dinner by an hour or so and it would be quite empty of both people and food. Her legs ached as she stretched them and she let out a happy sigh as her back stretched from its position. A knock on her door jarred her and she turned around, trying to figure out from which it might be coming from. Her office was connected to the hall, her classroom, and her quarters. The knock came again and she found it was coming from the hallway, so she walked over and slowly opened the door, momentarily surprised to see James standing before her, looking rather upset.

"Hi," he murmured, looking over his shoulder and then back at her. "I was just... I was going for a walk and I thought... Well, I was just..." He sighed, frowning. It was rare to see him so unsure of himself, and there was really only two subjects. One was Lily and his uncertainty of whether she liked him back or not, but she was almost certain that wasn't the cause of this anxiety. "Mum sent a letter and she's not doing so well lately. She's been thinkin' about my dad a lot lately, and I'm sort of worried that..." His eyes fell and his mouth shook for a moment.

Hermione nodded, knowing he was scared that he was going to lose his mother now too. His father had passed on that summer from natural causes, age finally catching up to the kindhearted man. Geoffrey Potter was a man who had been blessed with his only son at an old age and he had a strong relationship with James, from what Hermione had learned of him. Like Geoffrey, his wife Muriel was very affectionate to their son. They tended to lavish him with everything he could ever want, making him rather spoiled in some ways. They instilled a good sense of right and wrong in him though, and so he wasn't as snooty as Draco Malfoy, in Hermione's opinion. James had told her though, that Muriel and Geoffrey loved each other in a way that most would be quite jealous of. They had met young, married young, and loved still. James feared that his mother wouldn't make it long after his father's death and it was beginning to take its toll on him.

"I'm going down to the Kitchens, would you like to accompany me?" Hermione asked him, stepping out and pulling the door closed.

He smiled gratefully and then tried to act the gallant man and held his arm out for her to take. Chuckling, she wrapped her arm in his loosely and they began walking. She knew not to press, to simply wait for him to tell her. He was like that. He'd show up, talk about mundane things, and then he'd spill it all. This was like any other time. She nodded and smiled in all the right places as he talked about Quidditch and how the first match was coming up soon. He told her about his studies and how he had a little trouble in Charms the other day, but he figured out his problem promptly. And then he spoke about Lily, someone who always brought a soft smile to James' face, even in the middle of one of the hardest moments of his life.

"She didn't really smile, it was more of a smirk, I think. But that's better than nothing, right?" he asked her, looking over at her hopefully. "And she did laugh, but it was funny. I mean how often do I make such a fool out of myself that even Lily Evans, Headgirl, stickler for rules, laughs too?" he said, shaking his head and chuckling.

"I've seen you make a fool out of yourself a number of times," she informed him, half-smirking to herself.

He snickered, "Yeah, but did Lily laugh then?" he asked, lifting his brow to prove his point.

Hermione rolled her eyes. James was a real character. There were moments where he really did remind her of Harry, and others when he was quite simply all his own person. A sharp sense of loss shivered through her as she remembered her best friend. He had been having such a good time of life before the war. Sure there was planning and preparation, but he was... he was happy. For once in his life, he was truly happy. He had his wife, his future, his everything back then. All he had to do was look at Susan and love truly shone through Harry's eyes. It was the same with Ron when he was with Luna. Her best friends had been enjoying life and living it to the fullest. They experienced love and family, just like Harry had always wanted. They had their adventures, played Quidditch, and enjoyed the comfort of friends and being independent, like they had both been waiting for.

Their faces flashed in her mind and her stomach twisted tight. She usually avoided thinking of them. It was so hard. It hurt so much to think of them some days. Ron. His bright hair, his numerous freckles, his easy going attitude with most things. He could be sated with sweets and Quidditch at any time. Fierce, proud, courageous and loyal. Ronald Weasley, her best friend, her first crush, a man who stood beside her when it all seemed to be falling apart. As the Wizarding world began to fall to shambles, as Harry lay dead in a casket, six feet beneath them. As their friends were being picked off one by one. His own sister killed in the street like she wasn't worthy of a real fight, just an ambush and murder. She remembered his lazy grin, his strong hugs, his irrational mood swings. Oh, how she missed the big lug. His first words to her after getting married would forever stay engraved in her mind, "_Did ya ever think I'd marry Looney Lovegood? Me either. Damn, I'm the happiest bloke alive. And ya know what? It was the best decision I've ever made_."

Harry. With his shimmering green eyes and huge smile. He sometimes looked goofy, with his mouth pulled so wide and his every tooth showing, he was so happy. She could hear his rumbling laughter in her ears, feel his strong arms as he hugged her tight. "_It's all gonna be okay, 'Mione. One last battle. Just one and it's all over. Don't worry so much! I've faced him how many times now? This should be just the same. When we're done here, we'll all go to The Three Broomsticks and we'll have a firewhiskey. Maybe just a butterbeer for Susan, I think... I think I might just be a dad, 'Mione_." He grinned at her, "_Can you imagine? Me! A dad_!" He laughed then and Hermione could hear it echoing in her mind, sweet and excited. Tears gathered in her eyes and she felt as though she were going to fall any second, but she swallowed it. All of it. The tears, the stinging of her throat, the tingling of her skin, the twisted sensation in her stomach. She gathered a deep breath and she turned to face her best friend's father, hoping he was ready to discuss his pain.

They reached the Kitchens and Hermione tickled the underside of the pear in the portrait absentmindedly. James didn't appear to notice as they walked in and took their seats across from each other. Hermione politely asked one of the House Elves to bring her a Shepherd's pie while James ordered the biggest piece of chocolate cake he could, using his arms to illustrate just how much he wanted. Hermione bit her tongue when the need to tell him so much sugar would be horrible for his teeth, knowing he would tune her out and simply smile at her in that infuriating way that told her he was amused by her smarts but didn't much care about his teeth, no matter how many lectures she gave him. He fiddled with the table top for a moment, dipping his fingertip into the cracks and nicks in the wood, his eyes downcast, his mouth set in a grim frown and his whole body slumped in defeat.

"What am I going to do when they're gone?" he asked her softly, his voice cracked.

Hermione paused, knowing that she should tell him that one day it wouldn't hurt. That he'd gather himself up and move forward, but she couldn't. "Everybody deals with death in their own way, James. When I lost Harry, I locked myself up in my room and read every single book I had on my shelves. I thought... I thought if I researched just a little more, I could somehow change what happened. That if I knew something now, it would change what happened then. But... but he never came back." She let out a shaky breath and then blinked quickly. James stared at her, his eyes wide, and she knew that she really didn't talk about Harry or Ron enough. She kept it hidden and so when the rare occasion came up that she shared her past with one of the Marauders, they always looked surprised and saddened by what she had to say. She made a quick note in her head to start telling them more lively stories, ones that would cause smiling and laughter, even if it hurt to think back and know she couldn't have it again.

James leaned forward to hear more, intent on knowing how it would feel, how she dealt with it. She inhaled a shaky breath, and told him about her mourning of her other best friend. "When Ron was murdered, along with his wife and little girl Brooke, I... I--" She swallowed painfully and then clasped her hands together tightly, hoping to focus on the pain in her clenching hands than in her heart. "I went to his house... and I sat in his front yard until I was so angry... I-- I couldn't speak." She shook her head, clenching her jaw when her chin began to quiver. She remembered that night vividly. "Then... I-- I went inside and I screamed until my throat was hoarse. I cried my eyes raw, and I destroyed everything I could get my hands on." Her eyes darted all over, as if seeing the wreckage she had created. "And when it was all over, I was left sobbing on the floor, shaking. And I waited... and waited... Thinking he would show up," she said, shrugging as if it didn't hurt, though the ache seemed just as present as always. Lurking and burning her with its intensity. She sniffled, her eyes tearing up, "And he'd yell at me for ruining his favorite Chudley Cannons poster," she told him, letting out a choked chuckle.

James half-smiled sympathetically, lifting his chin a bit and nodding as if he understood. His smile fell though and his face darkened. "But he never came. They... They'll never come back. And I'll just be stuck here... without them," he said brokenly.

Hermione nodded. "Yes. You won't see them again for a long, long time." She nodded slowly, licking her lips after she bit them so hard they were swollen. "But... you said your mum and dad, they were very in love, weren't they? They were always together. They did everything with each other. Finished one another's sentences, knew what the other wanted before the other even thought of it." She let out a quaking breath, reminded of her husband. "I know it hurts, James, but... but wouldn't your mum want to be with your dad?"

He nodded jerkily, tears filling his eyes. "I know... I know that. I just..." He shook his head, turning to her. "I know it's not possible to change things, but sometimes I think... 'what if?'" He swallowed audibly, lifting his hands and running them through his hair anxiously. "What if... somehow... I could go back and I could-- I could _do_ something to save him. I know-- I _know _that the Healer said it was natural, but... But what is natural about leaving behind your wife and son?" he asked, his voice rising only to crack.

Hermione reached out, taking one of his hands in hers. "He loved you." He shook his head, opening his mouth to say something. She just knew it was going to be something senseless, like if he loved him he wouldn't have died on him. "No, James,_ listen_," she commanded, biting down on her lip to trap her emotions so she could speak calmly. "Your father loved you. He loved you when he was alive and he loves you still. And he's gone... He's... He's not coming back." She shook her head, sniffling. "And your mum, she's not doing well. And one day, maybe soon, she's not going to be here. But she'll have loved you." She nodded, tears slipping from her eyes. "And when she's gone, you can know that your parents are together. That somewhere, in heaven, or some place that witches and wizards go, they are looking down at you and they are thinking of how desperately proud of you they are." She squeezed his hand, feeling her heart chip a little more at the tears that fell from his hazel eyes. "They're going to look at each other and they're going to think of just how wonderful you turned out to be. They'll look down on you when you graduate, when you get married, when you have your first son, and many, many years from now, when you too pass away in your bed." She inhaled slowly, wishing the burn from her throat away. "And you're going to live every day knowing that they loved you, that they gave you all that they could, that they're up there, watching, and that while they couldn't be right here beside you, their feelings will never change."

He sighed shakily, nodding. "D'you know that?" he asked her, his voice hoarse. "D'you feel like Harry and Ron, and your husband are watching over you?" he wondered, lifting a hand to push away his tears.

Hermione nodded quickly, her throat throbbing from the pain of holding back her aching sobs. "Yeah, Harry and Ron will always watch my back, I think. And R--" She cleared her throat, hoping he didn't notice that. It was only one letter, she reassured herself, there was no way he could possibly have deciphered her deep, hidden secret. That was preposterous! "My husband, he was my biggest fan," she murmured, chuckling. "He's always with me. Pushing me forward, encouraging me to keep going, loving me," she whispered, shaking her head and closing her eyes tight. She inhaled thickly, before letting it out in a quick rush. "The people that really matter, James, they never really leave us," she told him, her voice a whisper.

He lifted his eyes, red rimmed and glistening with tears. "Have you ever left anyone, Hermione?"

Hermione remembered Brighton, Darnell, and the anxious Jacques, watching her leave with worried and unsure faces. "Not without intent to see them again." She shook her head. "Our choices must be based on what is better for the whole. Sometimes those choices hurt the few, but they were made for the many. It seems calloused, I know." She sighed, her lips pursing for a moment. "When we're hurting, we often make rash decisions and there are times that we hurt those that we care about. But, I think that eventually, once we've calmed down, we go back to those we love. Some way, some how." She nodded, half-smiling through the sadness.

He stared at her. "Will you ever leave us?" he asked quietly, looking worried. He sighed, his eyes falling. He didn't let her answer, his own confusion coming forth in a rush. "I don't know what it is. I've thought about it. I've tried to reason it out from every angle. I shouldn't trust you like I do. I shouldn't... not with the world how it is now. But..." He lifted his eyes, staring straight at her, and for a moment she was quite sure he could see her soul. "There is something about you, Hermione. It makes me feel safe. It's like... like I know that with you here, the world can't end." He snickered, sounding more flummoxed than anything. "You probably think I'm barmy--"

"No," she interrupted him, shaking her head swiftly. "No, I want you to believe in that, James. I can't promise you that the world won't end, but I can promise that I will do everything in my grasp to keep you safe," she told him passionately. It occurred to her that their conversation was quickly reaching a place that she couldn't yet reveal to him, but he looked so sad, so desperate. He only wanted to believe in something, to have someone tell him that he would be okay when it all came crashing down. She wasn't willing to just placate him for the moment and send him on his way.

A couple of House-Elves interrupted them then, placing their meals in front of them. James' gaze fell to his cake, but it didn't hold any of his usual childlike indulgence, he simply poked at it with his fork. Hermione cut up her Shepherd's pie, watching the steam come out and waiting for it to cool down a little. The House-Elves retreated to their cleaning and cooking, so they were left in heavy silence once more.

It surprised her just how easily she came to understand the boy in front of her. She considered him to be the equivalent of a little brother, just lacking the full history behind them to make it as meaningful as it could be. They fell into the roles as if second nature and it was curious how at ease James seemed to be with it all. He spoke to her as if he had known her so much longer than he had. His common expression with her was one of amused familiarity and she couldn't really explain it. She chastised him like she'd done it her whole life, and she worried briefly that (like Sirius years ago) she was seeing Harry instead of James. But then there'd be a moment where she'd look at him, truly look at him, and see the mischievous, arrogant, cheeky James Potter and she felt those same reactions. The need to keep him safe, to tell him when he was doing something foolish, to generally treat him like he was a (secretly enjoyed) nuisance in her life. Her exasperation barely hid her sisterly affection for him, and she couldn't blame only her mission for wanting to keep him safe. Perhaps of all the Marauders, James was the one who grew on her easiest.

Remus was harder, given that he was a constant reminder of her lost husband. There were moments where she separated them, but she wasn't up to the point where she could look at him and see two different people. She would remind herself that it wasn't _her_ Remus and force herself not to hug him for the simple reason of having his arms around her. They were good enough friends now that she could talk to him comfortably, but she had to watch her words constantly. He was a good boy though. Very smart and insightful, always friendly and at times even shy. He had a protectiveness about her that the older Remus had, too. Though he did try and hide it now. Hermione had first brushed it off as a wolf instinct, as a jealousy that any werewolf would have. But now she was beginning to see his irritation with just about everybody that came near her. He growled without even meaning to at times, and she realized that he was scared that something might happen to her if he wasn't looking. Her Remus had a fiercely protective side, which she knew very well in her time. But it was surprising to see in this Remus, though his personality certainly called for it. She had to remind herself that her Remus was once this Remus, therefore there would be numerous similarities. It was defining the differences, separating herself from the situation enough to see that this Remus was _not_ her Remus that she was still struggling with.

Similar to Remus, Sirius was sometimes hard to look at without seeing the broken, depressed man she once knew. And of course there were still his lingering doubts about her to deal with. She was actually more proud than worried of Sirius for acting the way he did. She could tell that he trusted her to some extent, that he enjoyed her company, and didn't _want_ to believe she was anyone but who she said she was, but there was always the suspicion in his eyes when she said or did something that seemed a little too knowledgeable. It was smart not to accept her without question though, it was good to be on guard. She was only saddened that he hadn't put that same suspicion on Peter when it was needed.

Peter was a whole other spectrum. Hermione had reached out as best she could; which wasn't very far, she had to admit. She tried to bring him into conversations, was polite and courteous, never lashed out irrationally at him or began screaming about traitorous acts. She did, however, tend to show him a rather cold exterior of herself. She found herself looking at him as a separate entity from the Marauders. The tag along, the boy who was simply there, not really a part of it. She was ashamed to say that she was ostracizing him without even knowing it at times.

"Why?" James' soft query jarred her from her thoughts.

She glanced up at him from her cooling pie and retraced her steps enough to know that he was asking why she would do all that was in her power to keep him safe. She didn't like lying, and she didn't want to have more than needed to explain later. She wanted to give him a roundabout answer, so that later she could say to him that she had tried to tell him, wanted to tell him, but couldn't. For his own safety really. "You're special, James. In ways you don't even know. One day, I'll explain all of it to you. But for now, I need you to trust that I will be here for you, doing all that I can to keep you from harm," she told him establishing serious eye contact in hopes that he wouldn't doubt her words.

"I do trust you," he replied, nodding. "I'm not entirely sure why, but I do." He sliced into his cake with his fork then, turning his attention away for a moment. It was silent as Hermione began eating her pie, and she wondered what it was that he was thinking about. A half-smile had graced his face and finally, he said, "So, you're like, what? My bodyguard or something?" he asked cheekily.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I wouldn't go _that _far," she replied, pursing her lips.

"Yeah, like my guardian? Watchdog? Champion and defender?" He smirked at her, his eyes regaining that spark of mischief. "My heroine, I suppose."

Hermione snorted, rolling her eyes and filling her mouth with the heavenly flavor of Shepherd's pie. She chewed it a few moments, feeling a little more lighthearted as she saw him chuckle to himself and relax his stance. He dug into his cake with fervor then and she barely held back her grimace as she thought of just how unhealthy all that chocolate could be. Remus would absolutely love it, she thought.

James offered her a bite, but she shook her head in dismissal. "It's really good," he told her, his eyes wide with emphasis. "Just try it! Com'on, one bite! Just one! I'll leave you alone just take one bite! Seriously, 'Mione, eat the cake!" he said, laughingly as he held the fork out, practically dripping with chunks of chocolate cake.

She continued to wave it off, but he persisted. He found it amusing when she began telling him just how unhealthy it was and telling him how bad sugar was for teeth. In the end, he continued to try and talk her into it until she finally sighed in exasperation and tried it. And, admittedly, it was perhaps the second best bite of chocolate cake she'd ever had in her life. The first was of her wedding cake, which Remus had been very adamant on being 'chocolattic,' to which she replied, "_Chocolattic? Remus, that's not even a word_!" He stared at her, his eyes thin with thought and then grinned. "_Sure it is, love, I just made it one_," he decided, giving a sharp nod as if it somehow made it a word even more.

After they'd finished eating, Hermione thanked the House-Elves and they left the Kitchens. Finding the time, Hermione told James he should probably be off, and then promptly asked if he'd finished all his homework. He chuckled, not answering her query but instead smiling at her warmly. "Thank you," he said, his smile slowly slipping as he stared at her with warm gratitude.

"I didn't do a thing," she assured, shaking her head. "It's you who has to go through it, James. I'll simply be there whenever you want to talk."

He nodded, lifting a hand to run through his hair. "That's what I'm thanking you for. Sirius and Remus, they're the best friends I could ask for. And they'd listen if I asked, but... they've never really lost anyone. Nobody who meant the world to them, and I thought... I thought you could relate to me. And you did," he said, nodding. He sighed, slow and accepting. "My mum, she's tough. So was my dad though," he admitted, shrugging. He swallowed thickly, "I don't think I'll ever feel better about it, but... But I think I can handle knowing that even though I can't see them, they can see me." He paused, glancing up as if he thought he'd see his dad there above his head. "Ya really think they'll be proud of me?"

"You're someone to be proud of," she replied agreeably.

He chortled, lifting his arms and crossing them over his chest. "You're somethin' Professor Granger," he said, looking back over at her.

"Oh, I'm _Professor Granger_, now," she teased, smiling.

He shrugged, half-smirking. "Thought I'd give it a try. Feels weird," he admitted, chuckling. "I don't usually call you anything in class."

"That's because you're too busy admiring at Lily," she bugged, smiling as a faint blush lifted on his cheeks.

He snickered, half-shrugging. "D'you think she'll ever...?" he looked at her hopefully. "I mean, I know I'm not the most serious guy, but... I would love her if she let me," he said in a soft, honest voice.

Hermione stared at him a moment, before smiling widely. "Don't give up," she said, finally. "One day, she's going to turn around, look right at you, and realize you are quite simply _her _James."

He grinned so wide he reminded Hermione of the goofy-Harry-smile. "Ya think?"

"I know," she replied softly. "Now off to bed, I have to get some sleep myself." She waved him a way as if he were a bug and tried to hide her smile at him. She really was getting far too close to all of the Marauders. If her past told her anything, it was not to establish tight-knit relations with people... they all end up dying.

"Right, sure," he said, happily. "Thanks again! See ya tomorrow." He turned and began skipping down the hall, looking as if he'd just won the lottery.

Hermione shook her head, rolling her eyes as she turned and left for her rooms. A yawn escaped her and she realized she really was quite tired. It was while she was rounding the corner that led down to the hall entrances to her rooms and office that she saw the boy being picked on. She could hear a few taunts being tossed at him as he was roughly pushed against a wall and then his books which he had been holding tight to his chest were knocked from his grasp. Hermione didn't think twice before she hurried down the hall, her steps so soft that they didn't hear her coming. There was a good reason she had been so skilled in war, was a top Auror, and considered one of the strongest partners of The Order, and it wasn't only her brain. She was quick, limber, quiet and sneaky. She could also be very harmful with and without her wand in hand. She scowled as she recognized the faces of a couple sixth year Slytherin boys, but didn't take notice of just who it was they were tormenting.

"Would you like to explain your presence here?" Hermione asked, startling the four boys enough to jump.

The three attackers turned slowly, braced for a lecture. Their eyes widened slightly upon seeing her and then looked curiously at each other, as if they were trying to decipher how it would all turn out. She wasn't known for being lenient, but she also wasn't someone who would penalize them far too unjustly. She was young, but she wasn't without knowledge in the matters of bullying and dealing with those doing it.

"I asked a question, I expect a prompt reply," she snapped, her hands settling on her hips. "I don't put up with bullying, d'you understand me?" she asked sharply. They nodded quickly, each looking as if they were ready to bolt. "Thirty points from each of you and I'll see you for two weeks detention. If I hear of any one of you threatening another student, I will personally speak to Dumbledore about your expulsion, do I make myself clear?" she asked, her eyes narrowed and her jaw tight in annoyance. It was also widely noticed that Dumbledore considered her like a long lost granddaughter, and some speculated that he would do almost anything she asked. Hermione never took his faith in her for granted however, and never asked for anything that wasn't needed. She was a respectable Professor, just like her colleagues, and she wasn't about to sully that by using Dumbledore as some sort of wish granter. That didn't mean she couldn't use it to her advantage by scaring the students into believing that their expulsion would be granted without question for Professor Granger.

"Yes, ma'am," they replied, voices shaking.

"Good. Get back to your dorms, now!" she told them, lifting one hand to point. They scattered, all but one at least. The boy who had previously been undergoing a stressful and emotionally taxing verbal and physical assault still stood against the wall, looking both surprised and confused. Hermione turned to him, only now realizing just who it was. Severus Snape was staring at the floor in front of her feet, mildly ashamed and looking as if he wanted to pick his dignity back up, dust it off, and shove it in her face. His greasy, stringy hair hung down in front of his pasty white face, covering part of it from her view. His shoulders were slumped forward and while he didn't appear to have any physical marks on his face, she could tell by the way he was leaning that his stomach was bothering him. She wasn't sure why a Slytherin would attack a fellow Housemate, and she knew that Snape wouldn't tell, but she decided then and there to keep a closer eye on him and his House.

"A little light reading, Mr. Snape?" she asked as she gathered his books from the floor.

"Yes, Professor," he replied, his voice cold but quiet.

She nodded, righting herself and handing them to him. She considered simply leaving, thinking he likely wouldn't want his pride bruised anymore, but couldn't help it when the next words came out of her mouth. "I was picked on since I was a little girl. I don't believe it ever really gets easier." She nodded, her eyes turned off. "You know where my office is if you are ever in need of me," she told him simply. "Curfew ended a half-hour ago, Mr. Snape, best hurry before Filch finds you loitering," she called back as she walked toward her private quarters. He didn't reply, but she did hear him hurry off a moment later.

With a sigh, she let herself into her rooms and changed into her nightwear to get some sleep. She was exhausted lately, what with classes, planning, preparation for the next full moon, trying to find Darnell, and making sure that everything in the timeline was still on course. Falling into her lumpy bed, Hermione rolled on to her side, pulled her warm duvet up to her shoulders, inhaled the fading scent of her husband on the pillow and closed her eyes in hopes that her nightmare would be less painful. Sadly, the same thing that always occurred in her dreams did and she had to witness Remus be murdered by Bellatrix, without a single moment changing, without her getting to him in time. She woke a couple hours before anybody else would be up and knew she wouldn't be getting any more sleep. After showering and changing, she made her way to her office and finished a little more reading from the tomes she had left on her desk.

The sun rose in the distance, slipping through the window and making the puddle of a candle no longer needed. Hermione rubbed at her eyes, stifled a yawn, and frowned as she rose from her seat and stretched her lower back. Her first class was still a few hours away, as well as breakfast, but she was feeling cooped up and wanted to move around. Walking to her room, she pulled Remus' black jacket from the wardrobe and draped it around her shoulders. She didn't bother buttoning it, but slipped her hands into the pockets, warming them. Her husband was much taller than her, and so the jacket looked rather large and frumpy on her, but she didn't give the matter much thought. She found comfort in the smell and texture, remembering how her arm used to curve around his and her hand would lay on the sleeve loosely.

The air was still chilly from night as she took a walk around the school, hearing nothing but the birds chirping and her footsteps echoing. As she looked out on the grounds, she was overwhelmed with nostalgia. She hardly left her classroom anymore and hadn't been outside really since the full moon. The area surrounding Hogwarts was quite magical in its beauty. The Forbidden Forest certainly had a sense of foreboding and darkness to it, but all else was simply magnificent. Some of her best memories were served both in and outside the castle, roaming the grounds or sneaking about the halls. She was too tired to feel too sad about the past and simply half-smiled in reminiscence before moving down the halls farther.

When she returned to her classroom, she found Albus having a conversation with her statues. They weren't responding verbally, but the Headmaster seemed to have established some kind of understanding of them. He'd laugh when they did something and nod as if they had replied. "Oh yes, you're quite right, I agree completely. But I must say, the wool socks have something so much more than the cotton ones. They're brighter, warmer, and I must say, simply more cheerful!"

Hermione simply rolled her eyes and approached the older man with a curious smile on her face. "Albus," she interrupted, looking at him and then down at the wizard statue as it sat down on transfigured chair that he brought forth with his wand. He could only really do a couple minor charms, and only with the material he had on him.

"Oh, good morning Hermione," he greeted, turning to smile at her warmly. "I came by earlier to talk to you but you were out, I presume. Did you enjoy your walk, my dear?" he asked, his eyes twinkling.

"Very much," she replied, nodding as she took a seat near him. "May I ask what it is you came to see me about?" she wondered, her brows furrowing slightly.

"A certain werewolf," he replied jovially, sounding quite excited. "I believe he goes by Darnell, you were looking for him early on when you arrived. I've finally found a position for him that has just been verified. He'll only be there for another couple days however, it seems his pack moves around a lot. To avoid attacks, you understand," He nodded gravely, before sighing. "I unfortunately cannot excuse you for the day of classes, nor tomorrow's, as there is no one to fill in and Brighton cannot actually run classes in your absence. However, there is a portkey in Hogsmeade, at The Three Broomsticks, waiting for you. It will disappear if not used by eight o'clock tonight. If you take it, it will drop you in the town of which Darnell and his pack lives on the outskirts of. There is a map there to finding him that will also disappear at promptly ten. Now, if you succeed in making it there, another portkey, one to bring you back, can be found in the exact same spot, but will only appear if you've taken the first portkey. Simple, really," he said, nodding.

"And the second portkey, when does it expire?" she wondered, tapping her chin.

"Not until seven the next morning," he replied assuringly.

"All right," she said, smiling as she stood up. "I really appreciate your help with this, Albus. Darnell is a very old friend, one who has stood by me through so much already. I... He..." She shook her head, not sure how to explain it.

"I understand, my dear. Mentors are the sort that we want with us always," he reassured, smiling in a grandfatherly manner.

She nodded, feeling his words fit perfectly. Darnell really was like a mentor to her. Somebody who picked her up when she fell and told her to lift her chin. A man who believed in her but never faltered in his own beliefs to suit her. Somebody who wanted to make a difference in the world, but wasn't willing to sacrifice anybody for it, not unless it was himself. A man with morals, intelligence, and a strong sense of loyalty. She trusted him entirely, and couldn't imagine completing the task ahead of her without him. "Yes, thank you," she said to Albus. "You've helped me so much," she told him, reaching out and squeezing his hand. Dumbledore too was a mentor, one that she was grateful every day to have in her life once again.

"Think nothing of it," he told her easily. "Now, I best be off. It's nearly breakfast and I have a bet going with Professor Socors over which one of us can drink the most pumpkin juice before our skin turns a familiar orange," he said, chuckling. Before Hermione could reply to that oddity, he turned and started for the door, whistling to himself.

Hermione shook her head and left up to her rooms, deciding to change into her robes and leave for breakfast. She smiled as she realized that she would be seeing Darnell later that evening. Chewing her lip, she worried that maybe he wouldn't be as receptive as she hoped. She would have to be careful, especially entering his colony at night. She was taking a big risk, but she was willing to do it. Darnell was someone who helped inspire most of the other werewolves. He was older, more wise and knowing than the rest. They looked up to him and he gave them the first push to look toward a brighter future. But she met Darnell when he was in his sixties, which was twenty years after his age now. Meaning he could quite definitely be a whole other person. She sighed, hoping that when she met him again, she would see a familiar and welcoming face.

Hermione's classes seemed to drag on forever and her thoughts were constantly away from the students and the subject at hand. A few of them asked if she was feeling okay, and she cursed her ongoing absentmindedness. James apologized for keeping her up late, thinking that he somehow caused her behavior, and while she assured him that he wasn't the reason, she couldn't tell him what she was planning to do that evening. The Marauders had all voiced their discomfort with her going off to a werewolf colony to look for Darnell without anyone there to keep her safe. She had made the mistake of telling them one afternoon that she would need to find him and that he lived with a secluded colony, one that tended to be very wary of humans. Since then if Darnell was ever brought up, she was stuck with a shouting Sirius, a frowning James, and a worried Remus. Peter had no opinion, though he did sometimes agree with one of the Marauders that it sounded like suicide to walk into a werewolf colony alone. If she mentioned it now, they would find a way to accompany her, and she couldn't have that.

It was lunch now and Hermione was diligently trying to avoid Brighton's worried glances. He hadn't said anything, but he did manage to get her out of a couple sticky situations. Like when she hadn't been paying attention and one of the students was practicing a defensive spell that would likely harm the user rather than the attacker. Brighton had stepped in and simply said that she kept him on his toes with all this hands-on learning she had him doing. He told the students that it was an experiment of hers, to see if he would recognize any mistakes and counter them promptly. Given that he was the teacher's aid, he had to have some responsibility. Hermione would blush, go along with his story, and then apologize for leaving him to watch her classes for her. She felt horrible for dropping such a burden on his shoulders, especially with the clumsy first years.

"Hermione," Brighton said, his voice quiet but strong. "Are you sure you're feeling well? I can put up review for the next couple classes and you could take some time to yourself," he offered. "Henri Frederic Amiel says, '_In health there is freedom. Health is the first of all liberties_.' It's important that you take care of yourself, and it's quite obvious that something is not right," he told her, frowning.

Hermione nodded, "I've been distracted, but it's not my health, Brighton," she assured. "There are only two more classes left, I'll be fine. Don't worry yourself. Did you find that talisman in the book I gave you?" she wondered, changing the subject.

He nodded, not looking entirely placated but accepting it as it was. He turned, lifting the book and flipping through the pages to the one she desired. They sat down to discuss it for a moment, still having a few minutes before lunch ended and another class came to greet her. Her thoughts were running away from her so she forced them back. She was worried, which was smart really, it wasn't intelligent to underestimate werewolves. But Darnell had assured her that while he might be suspicious, all she had to do was say the password, and he would know that she wasn't to be harmed. Taking a deep breath, she resolved herself to the fact that whether she was worried or not, she would be taking that portkey out of Hogsmeade and walking into the forest with a werewolf colony as her destination. She would talk to Darnell, convince him that she was definitely not making up some elaborate lie, and she would gain a true and loyal ally, while bringing the opportunity of equality to a whole group of werewolves.

She was soon distracted by her classes again and they seemed to move much quicker after her resolution. When the day ended, her stomach was too knotted with anticipation for her to eat dinner. She gathered a couple things from her room, including a picture from her lounge, thinking that she might just need to tell him the _whole_ story, knowing that of all the werewolves, he was the one who would most likely trust and understand why she did it. While he wasn't happy that she had done it, and didn't exactly believe she made the right choice, he did know her and believe that she was doing something worthwhile. And this Darnell might to be as perceptive right away, but she'd know whether or not it was smart to show him the picture immediately or put it off for awhile. She could read Darnell after being his friend for so many years, and she would be able to tell if he trusted her or thought she was simply a crazy woman. Even in the future he had been skeptical at first, but he had given her a chance and eventually came around.

By seven-thirty, Hermione was pacing her classroom. She had a knapsack of things on her shoulder and she was chewing her lip so much, she was sure it was raw and bruised. She had dressed all in black, wearing her clothes from when she first arrived. The only difference was the lack of robes, instead opting for a coat. Gathering her strength, she left the classroom and hoped nobody would question what she was doing or where she was going. Unfortunately, she bumped into Lily as she was leaving. "Miss. Evans," she greeted, her voice mildly choked in surprise. She often found it quite amusing how Lily had taken to using the professional terms, even though they usually spoke quite friendly to each other outside of classes, enjoying the Marauders antics, though often snickering on the outside at them.

"Professor," she said, half-smiling. "Oh, well, you weren't at dinner, so I thought I'd come see if you were feeling all right. I noticed you were very distracted in class and I wasn't sure..." She trailed off and Hermione caught her eyes falling on the knapsack over Hermione's arm. "A-Are you going somewhere?" she wondered, lifting a brow.

"Yes, but I'll be back in the morning," she replied, quickly. "Listen, Lily, I'm sorry, but I really have to go. Please," she stressed the word seriously, "you mustn't tell the boys!" She wanted to believe the redhead would keep it to herself, but with her acting so strangely, she really wasn't sure. She pulled her hand out of the pocket of Remus' coat and checked the gold watch in her hand, noting the time. "I really must go," she told her, turning and hurrying down the hall. "All will be explained tomorrow, I assure you!" she called back, flustered.

Her mind was a bit muddled as she left for the small town outside of Hogwarts. The halls were relatively empty, though she did pass a couple of her students. She knew she looked flushed and rather irregular, what with her avoiding speaking to any of them for any amount of time, but she had to get out as quick as possible. She could have left earlier, but she didn't want to run the risk of walking into any of the Marauders or leaving early enough for there to be too much light out. She didn't want to tip people off, not those from Hogwarts, Hogsmeade, or where she was going. To get out, she took a hidden tunnel that very few in the school knew about. She hadn't realized she was muttering under her breath until she heard her voice echo back with a snarky reply. Even the tunnels around Hogwarts were charmed to do things the Marauders must've found quite amusing. She could just imagine Fred and George, too, saying things just to hear what their echo might reply with. She sighed, wondering how it was she always seemed to get mixed up with mischievous, trouble causing boys wherever she went. She mused about how lucky she was, though, as they always seemed to be the most loyal and strong in character. She had to admit she needed more female friends though, chuckling lightly at the idea.

Standing in the dimly lit Hogsmeade, Hermione made her way towards The Three Broomsticks, seeing a warm light pour out the side windows. She could hear laughter and easy conversation filtering through the door and pushed inside. She briefly glanced at those around her before walking to the bar. She waved at Madam Rosmerta, who had been quite friendly ever since Hermione arrived, though she was sure that was simply good business. The barmaid ushered her to the back room, her expression one that lacked any way to tell she was about to give Hermione a way out of Hogsmeade and into a place far into another country, where she would then recruit werewolves. The other patrons of the establishment likely thought nothing of the nice woman showing Hermione the back area, especially after she called out a believable excuse about the most interesting new beverage she had accidentally concocted one night. Rosmerta was known for her skills at creating the most intriguing beverages simply by accident.

"Dumbledore said you would be in need of this tonight," Rosmerta said, pointing down at an empty box of Lemon Drops. "I don't know where you're going or why you need to go. I trust Albus so I expect you won't be bringing back any unsavory characters." She half-smiled, glancing over Hermione's shoulder and then back at her. "Be safe and keep your eyes open. The times they are difficult," she said grimly. Her eyes darting back and forth. Hermione wasn't sure who would be listening in on the conversation, she was quite certain that the excuse given to the customers was believable enough. "I'll leave ya'll to it then," she said, before wiping her hands on her apron and moving to the door. "Whoo! What a kick!" she called out, chuckling. "Poor lass'll be out for a couple hours yet," she said to the patrons of the bar. They all chuckled good-naturedly and Hermione heaved a great sigh as she stepped toward the portkey.

Shifting her knapsack on her shoulder, she licked her lips and stared down at the empty box, frowning. "Just remember the password and you'll be fine," she mumbled, closing her eyes and reaching out. She hated portkeys.

The familiar tug at her navel happened and she felt mildly queasy as she spiraled through the world to land at her destination. She landed with a gentle thud, her shoulders falling forward an inch at the landing. There was dust in the air, as it immediately assaulted her senses and she barely held back a sneeze. Opening her eyes, she found that not only was she standing in what appeared to be a closed, and possibly abandoned, sweets shop, but that she wasn't alone. She felt her anger grow along with her fear of what could go wrong, and her hands fisted. "_What_ are _you_ doing _here_?" she asked, her voice shaking. "Do you have any idea how unsafe it was for you to follow me? Let alone _here_, of all places!" she shrieked, shaking her head. "You have to go back! You have to--" She looked down, seeing that there was only one portkey and it wasn't the one they arrived with. This one would take them back, but she wouldn't have a way out in the morning. She sighed, feeling frustrated. "You are in so much trouble!" she exclaimed, frowning as she shook her head.

* * *

**A/N** _Hey readers, sorry it's been a little while since I updated. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and those before it. The next is where the action becomes a little more prominant and from there I'm hoping to speed things up more, without making it choppy, I assure. I've received so much incredible feedback from this story and I can't thank you all enough for reviewing and telling me your honest and sincere opinion. This story has to be one of the best I feel I've ever created and one of those I enjoy writing to the fullest extent. So thank you all for reading and reviewing, it truly is appreciated._

_Have a lovely May long weekend..._

_Much Love,  
-**Amanda**_


	12. Eleven

**Review offering insight to the story**:

"_what a lovely update! again you never cease to wow your readers. i love how you show hermione building a relationship with not only remus but with james as well. you have portrayed her as a wonderfully compassionate and strong woman, which is very refeshing amidst these fanfics that show her as wanton and an overall weak woman figure. your descriptions of the characters are consistant and the voice of your work stays the same. you show a literary prowess in the work itself and in your creativity. im also interested to see if any of hermione's actions have any effect on the future. time is supposedly cyclical, so maybe hermione was meant to return, but her going back meant the actions of the future. very hard for me to explain but i'm still very interested in how this plays out. i hope hermione will keep an open mind about her relationship with remus. they really seem to be made for each other and your work amplifies that notion. good luck with your next chapter, but you hardly need luck after seeing your work from the previous chapters. keep up the lovely work and i simply can't wait to see what your creativity has spun for us next!_" - **_DeltaGamma Liv_** of FanFiction net.

**Thank you to the following reviewers**: _werewitch, Dizi 85, Wistful-Dreamer, Pure Girl, amrawo, nelygirl, FallFromGrace1191, Black-Rose23, Jester08, Rumidha, Hotkat144, Lupin's Mistress (Erika), killing u with umbrellas, LadyAkina, sensual-irish, pstibbons, M03, bethygirl94, **DramaQueen4eva, mskiti **(Tabi)**, Li-chan, quiet-mg, mariaboombaby, xthirdaliciousx **_and_especially** DeltaGamma Liv, annieca **(Anja)**, laugh.live.learn** (Rachel)_ and _**galloping-goose** (Zeus)_

**A/N**_ There are various words here or there that are written in Romanian, the translations can be found at the bottom of the page._

**Warning**:_ Explicit language._

**Dedicated to**:_ Rachel (**laugh.live.learn**) and Anja (**annieca)** because their reviews are consistant, amazing, and in-depth. Hope you enjoy this chapter as well._

_-_

**_The Werewolf Tamer  
_**Chapter Eleven

The familiar tug at her navel happened and she felt mildly queasy as she spiraled through the world to land at her destination. She landed with a gentle thud, her shoulders falling forward an inch at the landing. There was a thick burst dust in the air that immediately assaulted her senses and she barely held back a sneeze. Opening her eyes, she found that not only was she standing in what appeared to be a closed, and possibly abandoned, sweets shop, but that she wasn't alone. She felt her anger grow along with her fear of what could go wrong, and her hands fisted. "_What_ are _you_ doing _here_?" she asked, her voice shaking. "Do you have any idea how unsafe it was for you to follow me? Let alone _here_, of all places!" she shrieked, shaking her head. "You have to go back! You have to--" She looked down, seeing that there was only one portkey and it wasn't the one they arrived with. This one would take them back, but she wouldn't have a way out in the morning. She sighed, feeling frustrated. "You are in so much trouble!" she exclaimed, frowning as she shook her head.

Wringing her hands, Lily offered her a small frown of apology. "I was worried," she explained. "You don't go out often and you seemed so frazzled all day." She sighed, squaring her shoulders, "When you told me not to tell the boys I knew you were about to do something dangerous. I just wanted to be sure that you weren't going alone. When I saw you there, with nothing but a portkey and a knapsack I knew there wouldn't be anybody to help you. I... I ..." She shook her head, swallowing audibly and then lifting her chin defiantly. "I'm a good dueler, I'm well versed in Charms, I can be of assistance in anything you need, Professor."

"Lily," Hermione sighed, her hand lifting to press against her furrowed brow. "You don't understand how dangerous this is."

"Which further proves that you should have somebody with you," the Gryffindor girl protested.

Hermione shook her head exasperated and leaned back against the counter near her, careful not to disturb any of the sweets jars on top of it. "Lily," she began, using her patient voice, "I'm here because there is a werewolf colony on the outskirts of this town. They're very suspicious of outsiders and one of the largest and most dangerous of its kind," she explained, staring at her with wide eyes. "Bringing you along could get you killed."

Lily swallowed thickly, licking her lips nervously. "Well, what about you?" she asked, her brows lifting.

"I have a way in. I... I know a safe word that will keep me from being attacked. But Lily, I can't allow you to come with me. It's far too dangerous," Hermione told her, frowning. "You shouldn't have followed me here." She dug around in her pocket, pulling out a gold pocket watch, "I have to go. I don't have much time." She sighed, looking up at Lily. "Hide somewhere in here. When I get back, we'll portkey back to Hogsmeade, and you won't tell anybody that you came along. D'you understand?" she asked, her voice leaving no room for discussion and her eyes wide and serious.

Lily shook her head sharply, "No. I'm here now and I don't think it's safe for you to go alone. You don't know the area, d'you? So it's smarter for us to go together. Besides, if someone comes back here, what am I suppose to do?" She lifted her arms, crossing them over her chest defiantly. "You said you knew the safe word, so we should both be fine."

"Lily I will _not_ allow you to put yourself in danger," Hermione told her, quickly losing her temper. Her skin was crawling with the fear over what could happen. She shouldn't have been so obvious in front of the girl, then Lily wouldn't have followed her. If Lily got hurt, or even killed, there was a chance that the future was all but destroyed. Harry! Harry wouldn't be born if Lily died or was severely injured. She couldn't risk that. Couldn't risk Lily's life. Besides, while she was still rather worried about her own safety, there was no reason to put Lily in the same position. "No. You'll stay here. Find somewhere to hide. I'll be back soon." Without waiting for a response, she began walking to the door.

"If you don't take me with you, I'll follow you after you've left. Which is safer?" Lily asked, her tone serious and warning.

Hermione turned around quickly, her long hair flipping with her, "I could stun you and hide you and you'd have no idea what direction I went in," she said warningly.

Lily lifted her chin a notch, "But you won't," she said strongly.

Hermione stared at her a moment, seriously annoyed that the young girl could be acting so foolishly. "James is going to rant and rave for hours when he finds out about this," she muttered, rolling her eyes upward. Grabbing the map next to the portkey roughly, she turned away from the girl, examining what was ahead of them.

Lily sniffed, acting as though she didn't care, "After all the adventures Potter and the others have been on, the only thing he'll have to say is how much he wished he could have been here."

Hermione shook her head, adjusting her pack. "We have a bit of a hike, so make sure you're ready for this. No complaining about discomfort of any kind. You're the one who wanted to come along." She paused, frowning, "Just so you know, we're in Romania." Walking to the front door, Hermione used her wand to unlock it and cast a charm on the floor so nothing would be disturbed, she didn't want any trail left behind stating that anybody had been there. There were eyes everywhere. Pulling her hood up, she covered her face and turned to Lily as she followed her out. The girl was wearing her regular Hogwarts cloak, so Hermione cast a charm on it to hide the crest. No reason for her to stand out with a screaming sign that she was just a kid.

Lily walked beside her, no trace of fear in her expression as she held her head high and acted as though the cold night air wasn't a problem. Hermione rolled her eyes, casting a warming charm on the both of them, then put her wand away safely. They were in an old, sleeping village, one where Hermione could scarcely see the shops of, it was so dark. The light of the moon gave them a view of some things, but the entire area was fairly ominous. Hermione could hear boisterous laughing and knew that a pub must be full and open. With the time difference, Hermione assumed that the rest of the village had shut down, but it seemed most of the shops weren't even being used. She was reminded of how good that was for the werewolf colony, not having to deal with so many people. She shuddered however when she remembered that vampires were a constant in Romania and that could be the reason for the lack of humans and running shops. She didn't have an exact location for where she was, but the map she found by the portkey stated that hills and a trek through a dark forest were in sights for them.

Hermione looked down to see what kind of shoes Lily was wearing and closed her eyes, sighing. "There's no way you can hike in those, Lily. You're feet will start aching on the first summit and you'll be left limping."

"I'll survive," she replied curtly, frowning. "I didn't exactly have time to go and get my boots when you were rushing out of the school aiming to do something reckless," she added before her eyes widened when realizing just who she was speaking to. She bit her lip, looking flustered but then tried to hide it again by walking forward as if she hadn't said anything disrespectful to a professor.

Hermione couldn't help but chuckle, shaking her head. "Stop, Ms. Evans," she commanded, using a stern voice.

Lily's shoulders fell and she turned around slowly. "Look, I know I'm not wearing the best attire for this, Professor Granger, but I'm going and you're just going to have to deal with that. The boys would never forgive me if I let you go off into a werewolf colony on your own, and..." She sighed, her eyes falling. "I know you're used to being independent, but I really think this is a time for you to accept help."

Hermione lifted a brow, listening to her small speech with a sense of pride. Lily was a strong witch and a very capable woman. She was confident and powerful, and she never let anybody step over her. Hermione admired that about Harry's mother and couldn't help but feel a small bit of comfort at having her there. While she hadn't had the time to get to know Lily as well as the Marauders, she did know her better than most other students. She was very bright and had a good heart from what Hermione had seen. While she didn't respond to James the way he so desperately wanted her too, Hermione could tell that Lily did like James. She didn't appreciate his sometimes over-the-top antics on occasion, but she had grown fond of him all the same. The way all the other girls at the school looked at James and his past record of flirting and snogging them was a clear reason that Lily wasn't so certain about James' intentions with her. Hermione knew, even without the knowledge that he would marry Lily and have a son with her, that he was very much in love with her. And just like the strong and confident student in her classes, Lily stood defiantly in front of Hermione, showing no sign of backing down. Hermione shook her head, pulling her wand from her robes.

Lily's mouth opened and her eyes widened, but she never let her shoulders fall or her eyes lose their fiery strength.

Hermione flicked her wrist and rolled her fingers, saying an incantation under her breath. Within seconds, Lily's school issue shoes became hiking boots that fit her comfortably. Hermione added a cushioning charm and then replaced her wand again, before half-smiling at Lily. "We don't have long. It's suicide to walk into a colony of _sleeping _werewolves." She walked past Lily toward the rolling hill of grass and rock in the distance just at the end of the dark village. She could hear Lily's footsteps behind her and smiled lightly to herself, wondering if she too would have been the same if she were in Lily's position.

The noise behind them suddenly got louder and Hermione grabbed Lily's arm, yanking her down beside a dark, empty shop so they were hidden in the shadows and outside of the gleam of the moon. Back at the pub, Hermione could see the door was open and a few men exited the yellowish-orange glow of the archway. One man was stumbling, clearly sodded and quite robust in the stomach. Hermione motioned to Lily to keep very quiet and not move, while watching the other two men beside the drunk one. He fell to the ground, his knees landing painfully and his arms flailing out to help himself. Hermione could hear his laughing, loud and hiccupy. He tried getting up, but had troubles in his drunken stupor. The other two men easily reached out, picking him up from the dirt ground and lifting him up a foot in the air before letting him down on his shaky feet. Hermione blanched, knowing that kind of strength wasn't human. The drunk man brushed himself off and then turned as if to thank them or tell them off, but he stumbled away when one of their faces changed before him.

Becoming ridged and strained, pale and veiny, the vampire lunged forward, wrapping a long, lean hand around the man's throat and yanking him back. The other held his arms without problem, while the transformed vampire twisted the drunk's head to side and pierced his throat with long, white, gleaming incisors. They seemed to glow with an eerie aura and Hermione knew that if she could see them as clearly as they could, then there was no doubt with their sight they could see them. Thick, dark blood poured down the man's throat to be soaked up against his dirtied shirt stuck tight around his large stomach. Breathing heavily, Hermione grabbed Lily's arm and pulled her back, putting a silencing charm on both of their boots and tugging her along the shadows of the shops, hoping to get around the edge and rush for the hills before the vampires saw them.

"Did you enjoy that, ladies?" one of them called, laughingly. Their voice was loud, hoarse but melodic. She reminded herself that it was a spell. That all vampires had a natural pull to them when it came to women. They deceived the mind, coaxed the senses, and drew in even the least willing of women. Hermione's feet skipped a beat, but she shook her head, telling herself she wouldn't fall for it. She looked to Lily, who appeared confused, her eyes slowly glazing over. "Come back, pretties, we could have some fun," he added, his voice whispery in Hermione's ears, as if he was next to her, breathing against her neck and caressing her skin.

Lily was slowing down, so Hermione cast a charm on her ears so she couldn't hear anymore and then, panting hard, ran for the hills as fast as she could. It wouldn't do for her hearing to be covered too, she needed to be alert. Vampires had an incredible speed to them and she wasn't willing to find out if they wanted her and Lily enough to give chase. Given that they'd just eaten and she didn't know how many other willing witches and wizards were in the pub, she was fairly certain that they were going to get away well enough. If not, then she had a stake in her ankle clasp and she was ready to duel if need be. While vampire magic was low, having no wand to use, some of the elders were strong enough to battle a wizard as old and wise as Dumbledore. Hermione wasn't sure who would come out the victor but the fact that the vampire had the ability and agility said something in itself. When all she could hear was echoing laughter, she calmed down a bit. They had managed to the top of the first hill and Hermione took the charm off Lily's ears, who just seemed bewildered now, rather than intoxicated.

"What was that?" she asked, shaking her head.

"Vampire charm," Hermione replied quietly, looking down the other side of the hill.

"Really?" she asked, sounding rather excited. "Fascinating!"

"Lily," Hermione said, sighing, "I really don't think this is the time for you to take an interest in studying vampires."

"Oh, right, of course. Sorry, professor." Hermione could tell she was still quite intrigued by the fact that she'd just run into vampires and come away unscathed. Lily paused for a moment before finally blurting, "Oh, but isn't this interesting, professor? We've already seen two vampires and we're on our way to meet a pack of werewolves," she reminded, her voice full of studious awe. Hermione wondered if she would've been that excited were she in Lily's place. "James is going to be so jealous," she murmured.

"Lily, this isn't a fieldtrip. Those vampires didn't want to discuss eating habits and tell you all about their lives. They're dangerous. We're outside of the classroom now, you have to remember that these beings are not interested in being your DADA projects." She sighed, shaking her head. "You have to be cautious."

"I know," she replied, nodding. "I didn't mean to... I understand that we're in a dangerous place. I was momentarily distracted that's all. I haven't seen much of the Wizarding world outside of Hogwarts... But it won't happen again, professor," she vowed.

"Good. Now," Hermione said, stepping to the edge. "Time to go down."

The other side was steep and covered in rock rather than dirt and grass. Turning sideways, Hermione began rushing down carefully, her body turned toward the hill so she wouldn't topple. Her muscles strained against the movement and her hands scraped against sharp rocks as she slipped a few times and tried to grab on to something. Lily followed her instruction, moving the same way and Hermione found the last few feet were easy enough to run down without falling. Her throat burned as she hit the bottom and she waited for Lily, before lighting her wand against the map again. They had two more hills to cross before they'd hit the forest area, if they went around it would cost them hours. She looked to Lily who was breathing a little heavy but not complaining. She nodded at the younger girl, who gave her a small smile and nodded back.

Hermione turned to the hill once more and began climbing quickly, it was a little more steep than the last and she had to lean forward so she wasn't standing precariously. She moved on the tips of her boots from the angle and her shoulders burned against the weight of the pack and the strain of digging her fingers into the dirt for help. Lily moved beside her, her face strained and her skin peaky against the sudden workout. She slipped when she grabbed on to a weed, but caught herself before Hermione even had time to register there was a problem. Hermione reached the top first and sat down for a moment, waiting for Lily to reach close enough for her to tug her up. They looked at the next hill, which was even higher, and took a moment to catch their breaths. Hermione could see the tops of trees and smiled lightly, though her stomach filled with a sense of dread. Darnell would move soon, so she couldn't wait for a weekend to come looking for him. Walking into a werewolf colony at night was considered unbelievably stupid, even by someone trained as she was.

There would be guards watching overnight, either sleeping in tents, in the trees, or having their own huts around the area. Werewolves were careful and always suspicious. It was attack first, ask questions later. They'd been hunted all their lives, there wasn't time for pleasantries when so many were out to kill and hunt them. Hermione understood that, she knew werewolves better than any non-werewolf alive. But just because she knew them, just because she had the ability to talk to them in werewolf form, didn't mean she was out of harm's way. She usually had Remus with her for these kinds of things. The scent of another werewolf left most others mildly comforted and their suspicion was alleviated just a bit. No werewolf hunter would willingly travel with a werewolf, it was preposterous. Just like no werewolf would ever travel with a werewolf hunter. They'd be a traitor, and if werewolves were anything, it was loyal to each other. They were all they had. But Hermione was aiming to change that.

"Let's go," Hermione said, rising from the hill and twisting sideways to get down the hill again. Her boots dug into the rocks and dirt, pushing it up and giving her leverage as she moved. Her cloak was heavy around her and the heating charm was making things uncomfortable. She took it off and felt the cooling air slip through her cloak and sweater to calm her skin. It bit at her face, but the sweat and heat fought against it to make her skin tingle. Lily moved ahead of her this time, her feet moving quickly and swiftly against the rocks. She hit the ground with a thud, choosing to jump the last bit instead of struggle against the terrain. There was a space of high grass between the second hill and the last, which they had to get across.

Hermione didn't trust the area, knowing it was magical, so she lit her wand up and scanned the grass. Something dark was huddled up in one area, bringing the grass down and flattening it beneath its mass. She could see it moving, breathing. It was curled up, or at the very least lying down, and she didn't want to think of how large it could be standing up. Hermione motioned to Lily to be very quiet, she didn't want to find out what it was, if possible. There were grating snores coming from the creatures large, thick form, and Hermione moved closer to Lily. "There's a chance that if I stun it, it's hide will rebound it and it'll wake up. We can try running across without it waking up, or risk stunning it only to anger it," she whispered against the red head's ear, her eyes searching for any other animals.

"Let's run," Lily said after a moments deliberation. "It's not far and if it hasn't woken up to our climbing and grunting, it probably won't hear us running through the grass." She nodded, biting her lip. "Ready?" she asked, only mildly unsteady.

Hermione smiled at her courage. "Gryffindor for a reason," she told her, before she rushed forward. The grass reached her waist and slowed her down a bit, but she was able to run without tripping. Hermione's feet kicked against the grass and her arms moved as if trying to drag her through, making her shoulders sting with the effort. She heard a snorting grunt and felt her heart skip a beat. She looked over to Lily, who was a couple feet behind her but hurrying as best she could with a defiant expression on her face. Her red hair fell down over her eyes but she pushed it back and trudged on. Hermione heard another noise and her eyes widened some, she had stepped on something and it cracked loudly in the silence of the night. Hermione turned her head, searching for the dark form of the creature in the grass, only to find it wasn't where it had been. "Hurry! Lily," she said, her voice only loud enough to reach the girl behind her, she hoped.

Blanching, Lily tried to move faster and Hermione reached back, yanking her forward in hopes of getting her closer to her. Her cloak was getting tangled around her legs and catching on the grass, but Hermione pushed her knees forward and kept hurrying on. She heard a low growl and then a loud barking sound and Hermione cursed under her breath. Her hand tightened around Lily's and she pulled her forward until she was forced in front of her. Pushing her, Hermione stomped down on the grass and yanked her wand out. She sent a spell at the grass, making it shrivel up and move out of the way, a loud sizzling sound echoed which was why Hermione hadn't used it in the first place. With the path clear, Lily was able to run easier and Hermione kept up without problem, her eyes scanning around to find their attacker. She heard a noise and turned to see the large vicious looking boarhound leap from the grass. Its body was lean and muscular, making it appear capable and deadly. Hermione grabbed Lily's shoulder and pulled her down low enough so they wouldn't be hit by the monstrous sized dog. After its legs cleared them, Hermione shouted for Lily to run.

Panting, Lily's legs pumped beneath her and when she reached the edge of the hill, she leapt up in the air, hoping to get high enough that the dog would have trouble getting to her. Hermione turned to the left, out of the way of Lily and followed her example, lunging toward the rocks and dirt and getting a hold of a strong stump. She pulled herself up, exerting her arms to keep herself high enough. She looked back to see the dog coming toward them quickly and began climbing. Her knees dug into the rocks and her fingers reached out blindly for something to grab on to. Her digging caused rocks to come loose and she felt them fly past her, hitting her face and scraping her skin. She coughed as the dirt clouded up around her and blinked rapidly. When it cleared, she checked on Lily to see her climbing and battling the dirt and rocks, her face twisted with fear and determination. Lily's foot slipped beneath her making her fall a couple feet, but after shrieking in surprise, she shook her head and started climbing again. The boarhound jumped at the hill, its paws unable to get a good grip on the loose rocks. It dug in close to the hill, its stomach pressed down and its nails clawing to pull it up.

Hermione pulled her wand out and shot a stunning spell at the dog that unfortunately missed as she lost her balance by an inch. It slammed into the dirt however and spit it out at the dog, making it whine in irritation and slip down the hill some. Hermione looked over to Lily who was making her way up steadily now and looking over her shoulder every few feet to see how the boarhound was doing. Hermione managed to get herself up on her knees and then forced her aching body to her feet, knowing it'd be easier to move upright rather than crawl on her stomach. Lily reached the top first and helped Hermione up after. Hermione frowned when she felt a sting in her hands and twisted hers and Lily's in the moonlight to find both of their hands were scraped up and bleeding. Because she wasn't certain about what kinds of creatures could still be around, she did a bandaging charm on both of them to keep the blood covered and hoped the scent wasn't strong.

"It shouldn't be far now," Hermione said, panting.

Lily nodded, casting her eyes back toward where they came. "How are we going to get back?" she wondered.

Hermione frowned. "I think the boarhound belongs to the colony. If everything turns out well, it won't be a problem on our way back," she told her, nodding.

Lily nodded, adjusting her cloak and brushing it off. "Let's go then," she said, her voice strong, betraying no fear of what had happened or what could be coming. Hermione admired her courage and decided that James had great taste. Harry had a good mother and Hermione was determined to make sure that he grew up with her.

A dense forest stood before them, trees reaching high into the sky, branches waving to the heavens from the heavy, cold winds. Before entering, she decided to check the map Dumbledore had left her. "**_Lumos_**," she muttered, holding her wand over the map and scanned it with her eyes quickly. She knelt down, her back beginning to ache. "Can you see light ahead of you? A fire or a cottage or anything?" Hermione asked, glancing up at Lily.

Scuffing her hair out of her face, Lily screwed up her eyes and slowly looked through the area side to side, searching. "I think... maybe... very far that way," she said, pointing North East from her position.

Hermione squinted and then evaluated the map again. "That looks about right," she murmured, nodding. Replacing the map inside her robes, she turned to Lily. "You stay behind me. You don't say anything. Answer no questions, ask nothing," she told her, rising from the ground. Lily nodded at her, but Hermione shook her head. "I mean it. It's important that they know nothing about you for as long as possible." She bit her lip a moment, questioning how safe it all really was. She knew she couldn't just leave Lily where she was, especially given where they were now. There was no turning back. She'd have to come and Hermione couldn't stop her if she wanted to. It would make the colony question just how much they trusted her if she left somebody behind, and she had no idea what else could be lurking around them. While she knew Lily was intelligent and capable, she didn't know what to expect in this moment. She had already encountered vampires and a boarhound, and she knew that in the distance there was a pack of werewolves known for being strong and suspicious. "And hide your fear, Lily. Squash it down and forget all about it. It's okay to be careful and vigilant, but don't walk in there terrified. They'll know and they'll assume we're not what we say we are."

"I'm _not_ a werewolf tamer," she reminded, her voice shaking a bit.

"You wanted to learn though, right," Hermione said, reaching out to put a hand on Lily's shoulder as she nodded slowly. "And you know Remus, he wouldn't hurt a fly unless necessary. These people have been running most of their lives. They're not trying to kill you, they're not out to hunt you. Right now, they're not even werewolves. They're just regular wizards who happen to be stronger than us physically. Mask your expression, stand up straight, look them in the eye like you did me when I tried to tell you to stay back," she told her, her eyes warning. "Understand?" Hermione asked, feeling sorry for having to treat her so abruptly. It was a necessity though, if they smelled her fear or felt her discomfort, they might just react without thinking.

"Yes," Lily replied, nodding shortly.

"Good," Hermione said, lowering her wand, "**_Nox_**," she said, putting out the light. "And don't get in the way if anything happens between me and them," she told her heavily. "Don't jump into fight and don't hurt any of them."

Lily's eyes widened in shock and for a moment Hermione was stunned by just how green they were. Just like her son's. "But--"

"No buts," she replied quick and final. "My first priority is keeping you safe. Second is proposing the program to them. D'you understand?"

Lily squirmed, obviously disliking the idea of leaving Hermione to fend for herself. "So, what? I'm supposed to run?" she asked incredulously, her expression screwing up with indignation.

"Run, hide, anything. Just stay out of it and wait for it to finish," Hermione told her, placing her hands firmly on her hips. "They won't hurt me," she told the young girl with a softer voice, trying to comfort her. "Darnell won't let them. Trust me."

"Do you know this Darnell man?" Lily asked, her brow furrowing and her mouth twisting with a frown.

"It's complicated," Hermione muttered. "Just promise me you'll stay out of it." Lily stood defiantly, her chin jutted out and her head turned to one side. "I mean it, Lily. You have no idea how important it is that you don't get harmed," she told her, her heart speeding up a bit at the possibility that Harry's mother was going to be killed. That the girl who had proved herself so courageous and strong would die because Hermione hadn't been smart enough to make sure she wasn't followed. All of her years in war and her training as an Auror down the drain. She was a disgrace to the Auror Department. Moody would likely kick her arse and then shake his head at her incapability.

"Fine," Lily agreed reluctantly.

Hermione nodded sharply before adjusting her pack again and walking into the forest. Her boots sounded loud in her ears, crunching and breaking things in her wake. Lily walked behind her for the first while, before finally taking up beside her. Her mouth was tight and her eyes thinned slightly. Hermione wasn't sure if Lily was keeping her eyes on her surroundings or simply annoyed with her. Owls and random noises could be heard throughout the silence, reverberating off of the trees and echoing through the night. The light of the moon slipped through branches, making the ground and air seem eerie and glowing. Shadows played in front of them, dancing over trees and ground, making shivers slither down Hermione's back. She could see yellow eyes peeking out of bushes, feel others watching her, whether animal or human she wasn't sure. The hairs on the back of her neck rose and she immediately felt on alert, knowing she was walking into danger. They were nearly at the camp sight, she could see the fire in the distance. There were a few tents, but mostly just makeshift beds laying around. She couldn't make out how many were in the pack just yet, but she knew they were there. Voices rose up, men mostly. She heard laughter coming from someone and felt mildly comforted by the fact that they weren't sitting around brooding or keeping to themselves. Taking a deep breath, she prepared herself for the inevitable confrontation. She hoped Darnell was the first to see her, but she knew it was unlikely.

She heard the snap of a twig nearby and her instincts reacted immediately. She pushed Lily back and took the brunt of the form leaping through the air straight to her chest. They flew back, skidding across hard ground. Twigs tore at her cloak, her backpack pressed into her back, and rocks scraped the skin of her arms as they became visible while she flailed in mild shock. Her head knocked against the ground and she strained her neck to keep it from being hit too much. Her hair was trapped beneath her cloak, her shoulders pressing down on it, yanking at her scalp. A man held her down, telling amber eyes staring down at her as he snarled. His body was lean, his arms heavily muscled and his legs pinning her down as he rode out the trip of her body dragging over the forest floor painfully. She stared up at him defiantly, her teeth grit against the trapped screams in her throat.

Her mind flew back to a moment so long ago when something similar happened, but Remus had pushed her out of the way and taken the hit himself. They were better suited to fight, having similar strength and the ability to do it. Remus was able to turn the attacker over and pin him to the ground while Hermione explained their reason for being there. That was then though. Now she was all alone in her fight. Hermione was frail compared to the likes of an adult werewolf. Hell, she was frail compared to a child werewolf. Still, she wasn't about to let him scare her. She had dealt with men like him for six years. He may not be in wolf form now, but that didn't mean she didn't understand them.

"_COPIL_!" she screamed in his face, her mouth twisted in fury, spittle flying up at his panting, snarling face.

His eyes widened, the amber glinting suspiciously. His hands loosened on her arms for a moment and the weight on her legs alleviated. But just as quickly as he'd trusted her, he left it behind. "Who the _fuck _are you?" he growled, baring his regular human teeth. Stubble covered his jaw and his hair hung down, brown and on its way to greasy. His clothes were worn and covered in various patches. There was a wild glint in his eyes, likely from being on the run too long. Despite the fact that he was ready to kill her, she felt angry that he was put in the place he was.

"I said _copil_," she told him, shaking her head. "We discuss who I am when I speak to your pack leader."

His arm reared back and his knuckle flew down to smash against her face, turning her head hard to one side. "You don't make demands, _catea_," he shouted at her, panting thickly in his anger.

Hermione could feel her cheek stinging fiercely and knew that it had either broken open or she'd have one very noticeable bruise in the morning. She rolled her eyes as he cursed her and struggled against his arms. "Get me Darnell," she ordered, wrapping her arms around his wrists. "I said the safe word, it's Darnell's bloody safe word!" she told him. Panic was beginning to rise up in her chest, but she brushed it away. She needed to stay focused, needed to keep somewhat calm. If she was too calm they'd suspect something, not that it was really an option as she was feeling trapped beneath the man above her, holding her as if a mouse beneath his curled fist. "_COPIL_! How many times do I have to say it?" she asked him, sneering angrily.

The man's hands wrapped around her shoulders, lifting her a few inches from the ground only to slap her back down. Stars danced in her eyes, but she ignored them. She could hear Lily whimper in the background and knew she hadn't run away. Hermione wanted to yell at her to get away, to hide somewhere, but there was nowhere to go. She wanted to make sure nobody else had come for her, but she wasn't willing to show any weakness by looking for the younger woman. Her attacker's chest was heaving and his eyes were looking around searchingly, as if he was expecting others to come out of the woods and save her or try and kill him. She understood that panic, could see that he didn't trust her as far as he could throw her. Then again, he could probably throw her pretty far. Hermione shook her head, realizing her thoughts were becoming muddled.

"Tell me who you are and what you're doing here," he ordered, his hands tightening around her shoulders painfully.

"I want to talk to Darnell," she told him, releasing no information.

"_Mi se rupe_!" he yelled at her, shaking his head and lifting her a few inches. "Tell me who you are and what you're doing here? How did you find us? Are you a tracker? Huh, _tarfa_?" he asked, his eyes thinning and his teeth gritting viciously.

Hermione swallowed the pain and fear. "_Copil_," she told him simply.

"_Prost catea_," he cursed, his hands dug into her shoulders, fingers reaching for her throat, long nails scratching at it. "We don't like trespassers," he told her, shaking his head and smirking at her viciously. "We _kill_ strangers." His eyes thinned warningly, but Hermione simply stared back. "Have it your way," he spat, his fingers moving to wrap around her throat.

Before he could get a good handle, a dark arm reached out to wrap around the man's throat, lifting him three feet high into the air. Hermione stared up, her heart beating out of her chest in relief. Her savior roared in her attacker's face, spittle flying out as he growled loud and angry. The moon glinted off of him, showing him so much younger than Hermione remembered. His body was still tall, lean with muscle and radiating power and strength like most of his kind. He had a confidence in his stance however, that told the viewer that their death would be by his doing if they wronged him. He demanded loyalty and truth, or he would bring about their death with a simple snap of his wrist. His hair was sheer black, too short to curl like she knew it did and no longer a stormy grey with age. His skin was free of wrinkles and a few of the scars he had received more recently in her time line, but there were still numerous dips and tears telling his many battles against his dark brown skin. Black coarse hair surrounded his mouth and chin, just like it had in her time. His eyes glittered amber, but were darker now with fury. Hermione had known Darnell for five long years. She knew his temper when it was flared and she could tell that at the moment, he was hitting a peak where killing the man in front of him was almost a necessity. He could be as calm as needed, but when pushed to the limit, he snapped like no other. Hermione had never been afraid of Darnell however and she wasn't about to start now.

Darnell held the man in front of him, letting his legs dangle down, wiggling in their search for solid ground. He couldn't breath around the tight grip Darnell had on his throat and he struggled against the hands, tearing at Darnell's arm futilely. "What the 'ell d'you think you're doing?" he growled at the younger man, his bicep flexing as his grip tightened.

Letting out a strangled noise, the other werewolf fought against Darnell's grip until he let go enough for him to breathe. "She-- za-- stran-- ger--" he gasped, turning his eyes down at her and sneering. "Prob-- ly-- a-- track-- er--" He growled, twisting to look down at her. "Fil-- thy-- _cat_-- _ea_--" he spat.

"Did she ask for me, Prott?" Darnell demanded, his face still twisted in anger. Prott didn't reply right away, breathing heavily and turning his eyes off. "I asked you a question," Darnell shouted, shaking him violently. When Prott didn't reply right away, Darnell threw him forward and Hermione heard the distinct crunch of him hitting a tree in the background heavily. He cried out, falling to the ground with a thud, breathing heavily.

Hermione stared up at Darnell, no trace of fear evident in her face. The man above her panted thickly, his arms shaking beside him in his dark rage. He looked down, his eyes slowly lightening to become the familiar, warm amber she was used to seeing in a man she often looked up to like a father figure. He leaned forward and Hermione could clearly see the muscles working beneath his shirt. His arms hefted her up easily and Hermione was reminded of how much her body was aching in response to all that had happened through the night. She winced, but covered it quickly. She felt her eyes begin to moisten as she stared at Darnell, so familiar and comforting without even meaning to be.

"You all right?" he asked her gruffly, turning from the situation to begin walking back to camp. Hermione nodded jerkily. Darnell eyed her sideways and stomped toward the fire, before turning his head to the left. "Don't just stand there, _fată_," he called to Lily, who stood rigid in shock.

Shaking her head, the red haired girl stepped forward on shaky legs before breaking out into a run and making her way over to Hermione. She had to jog to keep up with Darnell's widespread gait, her concerned face looking down at Hermione who lay comfortably in Darnell's arms. Her head hurt, her face was stinging still, and she was fairly sure her throat and shoulders were covered in dark bruises. She just knew wherever her Remus was, he was shaking his head at her, bursting to shout at her and shake some sense into her while simultaneously wanting to hug and kiss her. Her throat closed up, but she cleared it, reminding herself that she had a mission and she couldn't be getting choked up while she was being carried by a man who really didn't know her at all.

Darnell stopped at the fire and hefted her up a couple inches. "Stay here," he ordered Lily, before turning to the other werewolves around the fire, each of them quiet and staring at the strangers suspiciously. "_Durere cu fată şi eu vărsa al tău sînge_," he barked at them, watching as each of them nodded agreeably.

Lily opened her mouth to protest but a dark look from Darnell had her closing her mouth immediately. She looked around at the men and a few women sitting near the fire and Hermione knew she wasn't covering her fear like she should be. "Lily," she called out to her as Darnell began walking again. "What would James do?" was all she could say before Darnell shoved her through the fabric doors of the largest tent.

Hermione looked around at where she was. The tent, like that of the one the Weasley's had at the Quidditch Tournament so very long ago, was much larger inside than it looked outside. Darnell walked her over to the only bed occupying the area and placed her on it with a gentleness that most wouldn't expect of him. He walked over to a table set off to the side covered in bandages and marked jars and began searching for things silently. Hermione sat up, lifting a hand to her ringing head and slumped forward, leaning her elbows on her knees. Her back was hurting and her skin seemed to tingle with pain all over. She watched Darnell from beneath her lashes as he walked around the table, putting together various potions to heal her and take away the stinging pain. There were so many things she wanted to say, to explain, but they all seemed to stumble over each other until she wasn't sure what to say.

"You did a crazy thing coming 'ere," he called out to her, his voice both amused and angry.

"I'm not the most sane of women," she replied, half-smiling.

He snorted. "I can see that," he mumbled. He was stirring something that she just _knew_ would taste disgusting while stuffing some white bandages beneath his arms. He walked toward her, his eyes thinned slightly and his mouth frowning. "Who are you?" he wondered, his voice betraying more interest than he likely meant to.

"My name is Hermione," she told him, leaning back to relieve the pressure on her stomach which seemed to be causing a stitch in her side. "I work for Albus Dumbledore at Hogwarts school in Scotland."

Darnell nodded slowly, before kneeling down in front of her. He handed her the potion and then set the bandages beside her leg. "That doesn't answer my question," he said , shaking his head. "_Who are you_?" he repeated, staring her dead in the eye.

Hermione took the potion from his hand and guzzled it down in one quick motion, closing her eyes tightly and grimacing against the taste. She had no fear of him, didn't believe he'd do anything to harm her. It was stupid, she knew. This Darnell didn't know her. Had every right to be suspicious of her. But then, he could have let that Prott man kill her in the woods, no questions asked, but he didn't. And she knew Darnell, she knew all about his past when he was running his pack all on his own, long before she came along. He had been vicious, not someone who took kindly to strangers of any kind. He'd kill any man or woman who set foot on his territory without a legitimate excuse. He didn't kill those who simply stumbled upon his pack, but then his boarhound usually kept those from getting nearby. He'd killed many a werewolf tracker in his time, she knew.

Leaning forward, Hermione stared back at him. "Twenty six years from now, I'm a woman who tames werewolves so they can have the freedom they're due."

His eyes hardened but his mouth softened. "Come again, there, _muiere_?" he asked, his brow furrowing.

Hermione slipped her backpack off of her shoulders, her arms aching with the effort still. She could feel the potion taking effect, but the sting was still present. Opening the back latch, she dug around before pulling out a picture. "I work with werewolves. Have for six years. My husband was a wolf and he helped me learn how to, well, _talk_ to them. In full werewolf form in the dead of night with a full moon high above," she told him, swallowing thickly. "In 2003, I have the majority of werewolf packs on my side against Voldemort. I've trained them for years, learned their language and taught them how to distinguish an adversary from a friend. The world was in chaos, but I was almost guaranteed freedom for werewolves if we were able to defeat Voldemort. There were too many problems though. So many from my side were dying. Good people, good werewolves."

Darnell stared at her, his expression betraying nothing of his opinion. He hadn't up and left though, which was a good sign. He hadn't called her various names for telling her quite absurd story and she took that to mean he wasn't going to jump to conclusions. She hadn't won him over yet, the skepticism was bright and obvious in his eyes, but he wasn't downright refusing to listen to her either.

Hermione shook her head, her mouth tightening. "It's hard to explain, it would take a long time to give you all of my history. The bottom line is that in that time, you were there next to me," she told him, staring into his eyes. "I told you I was coming back to this time. I had to change the time line if we were going to prosper. Voldemort is too powerful in that time, but he's beatable in this one. So I left that year and I traveled back to this one. Before I left," she took a deep breath, watching his expression for skepticism and disbelief, "you told me to find you. That if I looked at the moon, I would find my peace. You said..." She swallowed, feeling flustered and uncertain that he could every believe what she was saying. "You told me that no matter the year, you would protect me with your life. All I had to do was give you the safe word. _Copil_," she told him, nodding with a soft smile. "You sometimes called me your little _copil_. You were never the most sentimental guy," she added, shaking her head. "But you were always like a father to me, and I was like a daughter to you. I know that sounds... ugh, that sounds rather unbelievable. You've told me all about yourself from this time and I know that you probably think I'm making up all of this sentimental stuff in hopes of winning you over, but this is the truth, Darnell. I know you. I've known you for five long years. I came to you with my husband and we discussed the program with you. You thought I was crazy. You said I was mental for thinking I could gain the trust of werewolf packs, but I did. And you were right there with me. You helped me gain that trust, helped me expand over the world to train other werewolves. We were a team. You, me, Remus, Brighton. We were all a team." Her voice shook a little as she remembered how close they all were. She handed him the picture she took shortly before she left, of her, Brighton, Darnell and Jacques. He took it with a curious expression, his eyes widening slightly as he gazed down at his face twenty-six years older.

She could remember the original four of them back when the program was just starting to get recognized. Darnell, his arms crossed, coming across so gruff and naturally commanding. Brighton, the quiet, reserved man, looking knowledgeable and strong in his surroundings. Her Remus, the main leader of them all, taking up a position that made him look inspiring to so many other werewolves. He melted into his role the way it should have always been. He was trustworthy, a true commander to them. _Père Loup_ – Father Wolf. And her, so much happier then, in her element amongst those who she trusted so dearly, those who would lay down their lives to keep her safe. Her strength was in her husband, her hope stood completely in him. How she wished it could be those times again. Back when Harry and Ron were still alive and thriving. Still in love and basking in the comforts of family and friends. It was an easier time then, still dark but not as hopeless as it had been when she left. The world hadn't yet crumbled, it was on the verge of either annihilation or rehabilitation. Unfortunately, it took the wrong pathway and Hermione had to change it before it could even reach that.

Hermione inhaled deeply, feeling as if she were getting hysterical. "There's so much to tell you, so much to explain. There's... There's a potion. Or there will be soon, I suppose. It's called _Wolfsbane_, it gives werewolves back their human senses while transforming. But..." She shook her head, her thoughts muddled. "But it loses its potency after awhile and stops working. It's also very expensive to make and those of you who buy it often are eventually found out and ostracized for simply being _you_." She frowned, her hands curling into fists. She was usually so much more put together. Why could she just pitch it to him like she had before? Why did she have to tell him all about the time traveling and the future? He likely thought she was completely mental!

Darnell was still kneeling in front of her, his expression hard but not dismissive. He had unraveled some of the gauze and was listening to her as he began tearing pieces off and lifting them to bandage various injuries on her. She watched as he wrapped her forearm in the white bandage, careful not to hurt her but tight enough to keep her wound covered properly. His hands were large and calloused, something that never changed when he grew older, except to become more rugged. Still though, he quickly bandaged her without being unnecessarily rough, knowing his own strength as a werewolf and capable of keeping it at bay. He smoothed her hair off her face as he looked over her cheek, frowning at the mark Prott had leveled her with. He poked it to see if she would react, not hard, but enough to see how sensitive it was. She winced, hissing slightly, and he gave her a half grunt of amusement. He looked almost pleased with her for not being weepy or whiny over her injury and she was reminded of the Darnell she knew who was quite coarse while being very warm and comforting underneath his hard exterior.

Clearing her throat, Hermione got back to business. "Voldemort began rallying the werewolves, promising them freedom in _his_ world, but he didn't care about them." She shook her head, her eyes hardening, "He was sending them out first during the battles to be slaughtered. It was wrong, all wrong. So I put together a program with my soon-to-be husband. If we could give werewolves back their senses, at least enough so that people couldn't say that they were in life threatening danger, then werewolves could be given the ability to live freely. I started working with Remus, giving him half the _Wolfsbane_ so that he could think enough like both a werewolf and a human that I could learn from him. Over six years, I had nearly all of the werewolf clans on my side. They weren't considered killers anymore, word was spreading and people weren't as afraid of them," she told him, pride swelling as she thought back to all that had been accomplished then.

"There's more to this than what you're telling me," he finally said, wiping away a smear of blood on her throat and holding a chunk of gauze against it. "A lot more," he grunted, shaking his head.

"But, d'you believe me?" she asked, wondering if she sounded as meek and worried as she felt.

Darnell looked up at her. "The idea's a little _necrezut_..." He rubbed the back of his neck, his mouth straightening to a thin line. "Time travel, it's a 'eavy subject. And freedom for werewolves," he added, a brief half-smile pulling at his mouth. "You dream big, _cunoscut_, almost too big," he told her, shaking his head. "Most would think you foolish."

"I'm not sure you didn't," she replied lightly.

Darnell nodded, his mouth twitching with the beginnings of a smile, but then his mouth fell back to seriousness. "If you 'ad such a following then why would you come back 'ere?" he wondered, looking up at her with his deep, probing amber eyes.

"There were complications," she replied, sighing. "A prophecy stated that a certain boy would be the one to defeat Voldemort, that he had a power the Dark Lord knew not. When it came time for them to fight, that boy was distracted by his wife's slaying. Voldemort killed him when his back was turned." She felt her heart jump just at the memory but told herself she could cry later, this was no time to fall into a pit of despair. "With him gone, the Wizarding world looked like free game. Voldemort's power was depleted though, he had to hide and recuperate. He couldn't take over immediately and the rest of us refused to let him take us without a fight. With Voldemort in hiding, the rest of us were left to defend against his Death Eater attacks. He started killing off the strongest of the resisters, somehow finding out where their homes were even though that knowledge was severely hidden from him and his kind. I still had the majority of the werewolves, but Voldemort was growing stronger every day." She looked away, her mouth shaking. "Three and a half months ago a group of Death Eaters attacked Diagon Alley while my husband and I were gathering supplies for the next full moon. While trying to fight and keep the public safe, he was k-killed." Her voice wavered and her throat began to close up. Tightening her eyes for a moment, she forced herself to straighten up.

Taking a deep breath, she continued. "I became one-minded in finding his killer. You kept telling me that my sights should be on the whole rather than just one, that I had to stop wallowing, but I... I couldn't," she told him, shaking her head. "I woke up late one night, like I usually do, and I decided to spend some time in my study downstairs. While there I came across a book, one that told me I was capable of going back in time. I decided then that there was only one thing I could do." She turned her head back, staring Darnell in the eyes, about to tell him her biggest secret, the one that only those most trusted knew. "I've come back to stop Voldemort from ever creating the future I know. If I can destroy him before certain events then I can save so many. I have until October 31st, 1981. That is the day that he finds the boy from the prophecy and kills his parents. He tries to kill the boy, who's only a year old at the time, but doesn't succeed. His mother's love causes the curse to rebound and not destroy him, but change him into something... _unearthly_." Her voice became hard, her expression dark, "If I can defeat Voldemort before then, then I'll have saved a whole world of people. I know the dates, Darnell. I know the time line of everything that brought about Voldemort's power and reign. I can create a world where not only you are free, but all that are good in the Wizarding world are, too." She swallowed heavily, "You understood in my time, you didn't agree with my going back, but you understood why I had to." She reached out, placing a heavy hand on Darnell's shoulder. "I need your help, Darnell. I need your support and your leadership. Please. Help me save them."

Darnell stared back, his eyes filled with the wisdom and strength she'd known for ages. This was it. If he said no then she lost a huge support system. Without his help, without him backing her, numerous werewolf colonies wouldn't even give her a chance. Besides the program, she herself needed him. She had looked up to him for years, knowing that with him there things were safer. Darnell had kept an eye on her since she was just nineteen years old. He had tackled the rambunctious werewolves when they got out of hand and tried lunging at her in fear. He battled next to her through various attacks and wars. He picked her up after Remus was gone, making sure she didn't wallow herself to death. He kept her eating when the mere thought of sustenance made her insides turn out. He was the stand-in father when her own had been killed and she honestly wasn't sure she could accomplish her mission without him. She couldn't have Remus, he was just a boy who knew nothing of what her Remus did. But she could at least have a friend, a natural born leader to keep her going when things got rough. Brighton was still young, still coming into his own and learning to be the man Hermione knew. She needed Darnell, she needed her mentor there with her to guide her through it all.

"If I do this, you better be sure you know what you're getting into," he replied, rising from the ground. "My pack is tough, they're mostly ornery men who 'ate all who aren't werewolves. They're going to rebel against your idea at first. They won't want to take orders from a 'uman, let alone a woman," he warned, shaking his head. "You 'ave to be strong back, don't take any of their _câcat_," he told her gruffly, frowning.

A slow smile broke out on Hermione's face and she nodded. "I know how to handle them," she assured, biting her lip.

"I'm sure you do," he said, his voice almost familiarly affectionate and Hermione wondered what it was she said that made him trust her already. He cleared his throat, crossing his arms over his chest and staring down at her. "What time d'you 'ave to be out of 'ere then?"

"Early," she told him, nodding. "My portkey leaves at seven tomorrow morning."

Darnell nodded jerkily. "You and the young one must not 'ave 'ad an easy time getting 'ere," he said, lifting a brow questioningly.

"There were horny vampires in town, the hills weren't friendly, and your boarhound is a light sleeper," she replied, shrugging with a dismissive sigh.

He laughed, the sound coarse and amused. Hermione was reminded of the man she knew in her time, a man who rarely had anything to laugh about. There were moments when Darnell would smile, but not often. There were times when people amused him enough to laugh long and hard, but it was rare. It came easy to him now, a few words and he laughed freely. She hoped to preserve that for him.

His expression slowly became more serious and he glanced over his shoulder. "The _fată_ doesn't know, does she?" he asked, frowning.

Hermione shook her head. "There are very few who do."

"You don't trust easy," he noticed, nodding. "I'm not sure if that's smart or sad."

"A little of both," she replied, shaking her head as her eyes fell. "Most of those I trusted ended up dead. The last three I left behind for this."

Darnell nodded sagely, "Never trust anybody and you'll always be safe. But then what's the good of being safe if there's no one around to worry?" Hermione looked up at him, her brow furrowed and her mouth working as if to say something but finding nothing. "Trust is 'ard to give out, _cunoscut_, but when you find the people who deserve it, you shouldn't keep it from them." Kneeling back down in front of her, he half-smiled, something in his eyes that told her he was someone who would always keep her safe. "You've been 'urt. Battered, bruised, broken. So 'ave I. If in twenty six years from now I was able to trust you, then I know that there's something about you, 'ermione. You 'ave big dreams for such a small _muiere_, but you came to the right werewolf."

Hermione smiled at him, feeling as if her burden and mission had become a little more doable.

"Now," he said, standing up once more and handing her back her photo of them all, "It's late. You're probably 'ungry and tired. You and the _fată_ can 'ave some dinner and then sleep 'ere. I'll take you back to town myself, early. No sense in leaving now, the vampires get rowdy around this time and you're both tuckered out. No fighting me on this," he told her gruffly when she opened her mouth to kindly protest. "I'll get you back to your portkey in time. My pack is moving out tomorrow, I'll 'ave to talk to them about this project of yours. I'll write to you when everything is figured out and then I'll move them down to Scotland where we can establish a place to meet for the full moons. I can't guarantee they'll all come, but I'll convince as many as I can. You can come in and talk to them yourself after we get established in our next settlement. We'll still be in Romania then, but far from 'ere."

Hermione nodded, understanding that things wouldn't work out immediately. It would take time and effort to put everything together. Just because Darnell believed her didn't mean the others would. Not right away anyway. She'd put in her work though and she'd come out the victor. There was much planning needed. She couldn't just throw all the clans together. Brighton and Remus likely wouldn't be comfortable with that just yet. She'd probably have awhile before the majority of Darnell's clans agreed to meet with her anyway. She could do this, she assured herself. She had done it once before and she could do it again. Hermione stood up from the bed, her stomach feeling more empty than it had before, only now recognizing that she really was hungry. She followed Darnell out of the tent, remembering that she left Lily all on her own with a pack of werewolves that most likely weren't going to be too welcoming.

Exiting the fabric doors of the tent, Hermione tightened her mouth to hold back a laugh. Lily was not politely sitting quietly by the fire, keeping to herself and pretending as though she wasn't fearing for her life. Instead she was talking comfortably with various men and women, telling stories about her years at Hogwarts and sharing memories about (of all people) the Marauders. Hermione smiled to herself, noticing how Lily smiled when she talked about James, who she was _not_ referring to as Potter-the-Pest, or even Potter, but simply James. Her arms waved around and her cheeks flushed as she laughingly shared something else the Marauders had done. While she hadn't agreed with it, which she told them in a very Prefect sort of way, she did tell the stories with a certain pride to her voice. The men and women around her didn't appear hostile at all, instead listening raptly and enjoying every minute. They quieted when Darnell came out, looking up to him like only cubs to a parent could.

"This is 'ermione," he introduced, motioning to her as she walked toward Lily, who leapt up from the log she was sitting on and rushed over to her. Forgetting that Hermione was a professor, Lily wrapped her arms around her and anxiously asked if she was okay.

"I'm fine. Darnell fixed me up," she assured, patting the worried girls shoulder.

"From now on, you 'ear the word "_copil_" and you don't 'arm them. You bring them to me," Darnell ordered each of the men and women around him. Hermione frowned. If_ copil_ hadn't been the safe word all along, why did Darnell trust her in the first place? Before she could ask, Darnell turned to her. "The shirt you're wearing has the scent of a werewolf all over it, 'ermione. There are only two people who smell like a werewolf that aren't one. Trackers and spouses. No tracker would walk into my colony and use a word meant only for family. You've got a good 'eart, I'll give you that. But you're downright crazy, _muiere_." Hermione snorted, shrugging her shoulders. "From now on, you want to walk into a werewolf colony, you bring a werewolf," he told her seriously, his eyes wide and warning.

"I think I know one or two," she replied, nodding.

Darnell nodded before turning to Lily, "So, _fată_, what the 'ell brought you out 'ere?"

Lily blushed before straightening out. "I suppose I'm a little crazy myself."

Darnell half-smiled, laughing as he shook his head at her. Hermione smiled, taking a deep breath and letting it out nice and slow. As she looked around, amber eyes met hers, strong bodies, lean and muscled. She could hear Darnell's echoing laugh in her ears, and knew that she was surrounded by a feeling of comfort. A sense of _home_. She was back where she was meant to be, with werewolves and friends. If only Remus, Sirius, James and Brighton could be there, then she'd have all of her friends from this time. She felt a pang in her chest, as if she were replacing her friends and family with a new group. Looking over at Darnell who was talking to Lily in his gruff, serious but somehow friendly voice, Hermione knew that while she could have some of her past, the future would never be what she had. Some of that was good and some of that was heartbreaking. She would have to make due though. Lily's laughter reached her and she knew that a world without Lily's laugh and Darnell's smile was not a world she wanted to live in. Harry would grow up with a mother who was strong and loyal, loving and kind. Darnell would grow old in a world where he no longer had to live in tents and hide from trackers by using boarhounds. Remus would be free, to live how he wanted, to love who he wanted. The werewolves around the fire would be able to work like regular people, to own their own homes, to have families and live peacefully. She might not even have to find Jacques when he was turned if the world opened their eyes like how she wanted them to.

Hermione had a mission. One that she had Darnell's help with now. Looking at Lily and remembering all that she had done that night, Hermione knew that Darnell was right about trusting people. Not yet, she knew, she couldn't tell Lily everything just yet. That would be reckless and put both her and Lily in far too much danger. But she would know one day, when Hermione was sure that it was time to share with the Marauders and Lily without putting them in a position that could get them killed. Her top priority was keeping them safe and Hermione couldn't risk that. But her plan was moving forward, she was determined to complete her mission. Voldemort would not triumph, he would not learn of Harry or kill Lily and James. Bellatrix wouldn't torture the Longbottoms, in fact, Hermione wanted Bellatrix destroyed as soon as possible. While this Bellatrix didn't yet do what the Bellatrix from her time did, she would pay all the same. She'd probably already massacred who knows how many people, Hermione would be saving more lives than she could count. While Hermione knew that her plans were moving forward, she also knew that not everything would go smoothly. Something was happening, something sinister and unrelenting. Hermione felt a shiver go down her back. It wouldn't be long now. She suddenly couldn't wait to get back to Hogwarts, she needed to check her calender.

* * *

**Romanian Translations**: 

_Copil_ – cub, baby, child  
_Prost _– "stupid"  
_Catea_ – "bitch"  
_Tarfa_ - "whore"  
_Mi se rupe _– "I don't give a fuck"  
_Fată –_ girl  
_Durere cu fată şi eu vărsa al tău sînge_ – "Hurt the girl and I spill your blood" (loosely)  
_Muiere_ – woman, female  
_Necrezut_ – unbelievable, inconceivable  
_Cunoscut_ – friend, acquaintance, familiar  
_Câcat_ – "shit"

**A/N** _Hope you enjoyed this chapter. I felt Lily's invovlement was very important. I believe her character would have a hard time connecting with Hermione because she's a professor, she's want to see her only as a mentor and not get as close to her as the Maruaders have. So, I let her inquisitive nature bring her closer by taking her along for this journey. I think it'll definitely bring Lily into the story more now, rightfully. Also, I really liked writing Darnell's character here and I hope you liked how he came out, nearly thirty years younger. He's been somebody I wanted in the story as much as possible from the very beginning. I'll try to post another chapter soon!_

_An update on my other stories:_

_I hope to be writing more to **A Family Affair** very soon. I'm currently writing the epilogue to this story, but when I'm finished I hope to start the next chapter to **AFA**._

_**Blood Is Thicker Than Tears** should have an update soon, also. That story is winding down here with only a handful or so of chapters left and I hope to be finishing it within the month._

_**Growing** has not been updated for a **very** long time, I know. I have **not** abandoned it, but for right now it's on hold. I want to write more to it, but I haven't had the drive to. I **will** though, I have no doubt about that! It's prequel, **Summer Haven**, should also be updated soon, if possible._

_**Secret Life** should be updated in about 5 days, giving it a weekly update._

_**Only In The World of Dragons** has just been updated._

_Thank you all for reading. Please review, it's greatly apprecaited.  
Much Love,  
-**Amanda**_


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